Page 94 of The Version You Hide

I feel the warmth of her breath on my neck before she lifts her head. She slides her hand into her pocket and pulls out the folded paper and I notice her name scrawled across one side of it. “It’s a letter. From my mother.”

“Oh, Kenz.”

No wonder she’s been so sullen. This has to be massive for her.

“She wrote it before she died. Grace told me she came back to her when she got sick. She wrote two letters. One for her and one for me.”

“My guess is that you haven’t read it yet,” I say.

“That would be correct.”

“Did Grace tell you what her letter said?”

“Yeah. She showed it to me too.” She turns the folded note in her hand. “My mother’s letter to Grace was what lead her to find me. Up until she read it, Grace had no idea I even existed.”

“Your mother didn’t tell her about you?”

She shakes her head. “Grace said she must have had her reasons. That she was wild and rebellious. But I don’t feel like any of that is a good enough excuse. I know I should be grieving her loss but I’m so angry. Not only because she left me without a mother, but she took away my chance of having a grandmother. Of having a proper family.”

“I can understand that.” If I was in Mackenzie’s position, I’d be furious too, but this situation doesn’t seem at all that black and white. “But you need to know what your letter says.”

“I haven’t been able to bring myself to read it. I mean, she’s gone,” Mackenzie turns to me, her eyes suddenly burning like blue flames. She shakes the letter in front of me in frustration. “What could she possibly have written in here that could benefit me in any way?”

“I guess that’s something you can only know by reading it. And I think that if you don’t read it, you’re always going to wonder.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “I know. I just don’t know if I have the strength. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Daisy glides around the circumference of the pool, grazing its edge until she comes to stop at Mackenzie. The way she slides her body over Mackenzie’s shins causes her to startle. “What’s going on? What is she doing?”

“I think she can sense your sadness. Stingrays have this strange way of knowing when your emotions are heightened.” I lean over and run my fingers along Daisy’s fin. “Pretty cool, right?”

Mackenzie reaches down, her fingertips skating over mine before coming into contact with Daisy. “It’s very cool.”

“Like I said, they’re great listeners.” I offer a small smile when she raises her gaze to mine. “I know you’re scared to read it, but if you want my opinion, I think you should at least take a look at it.”

She nods. “I know. You’re right. If I don’t read it, I’ll always wonder.”

“I can go. Give you some privacy. I need to take the bucket back to the supply room anyway.” I don’t want to leave her, but she needs this. And something tells me, she’d like space to do it.

I lift one leg out of the water, then the other, and push myself up to stand. Then her hand is in mine. I look down, finding desperation in her stare.

“Stay,” she pleads.

I nod, sitting back down beside her, then I wrap my arm around her again. She unfolds the paper gently, taking the kind of care with it you’d only give to something fragile. She swallows, then with a shaky voice she reads aloud.

To Mackenzie, my little ray of sunshine,

If you’re reading this, then it means your grandmother has found you. I’m so glad for that.

I know it isn’t going to be easy to put into words the way I feel about you and my constant regret for the way I left you. I was a terrible mother to you, in both my presence and my absence, and for that I’m truly sorry. The cancer that eats away at me is my karma. I know that in my soul. It’s what I deserve for never being the person you needed me to be.”

She drops the letter to her lap, clearing her throat. Her shoulders shake with an unsteady breath. Those words would have been harder for her to read than they are for me to hear. The pain is visible in her eyes as they slice to mine. I can tell she’s contemplating whether it’s worth her while to keep reading, but I nod, urging her to continue.

“The day you were born was the happiest of my life. It was also the worst. As a toddler you truly were my little ray of sunshine with those light blue eyes that could light up any room, a head full of shiny blonde curls. You were the best thing to ever happen to me. The best thing in this world.

And that is why I had to leave you.

You were pure light, and I was poison. I tried to love you in all the ways I knew how but I always managed to screw it up.

---