To my beautiful baby girl,
I was your first mother. Please know I loved you and I loved your father, but a life for the three of us was not in God’s plans. I pray for you a good life.
You are my whole heart.
Taryn’s hand trembled as she stared down at the distinctive handwriting. The letters were neat and evenly spaced, the cursive styling precise. Time lent the paper a distinct yellow cast and curled its edges inward. A ripple of ink blurred one word and left the letters smudged. From a fallen teardrop?
She turned the letter over, searching for another clue. The empty expanse echoed the barren canvas of her heart.
Forty-five words summed up the whole of her lineage. One simple paragraph to explain who she was and where she came from. Pathetic little to explain this aching void in her soul.
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