How would she feel in Chloe’s situation?

“Should we… you know…” Sarah waved her hand in a circular motion that could mean anything, but Meghan was pretty sure what Sarah meant.

And then for the second time in as long as she could remember, Meghan said the dreaded words. “I don’t know.”

Sarah stared at her, the letter clutched to her chest, green eyes dark with emotion. “I don’t know how to talk to Papa about this,” Sarah said. “But Chloe deserves the truth.”

She did. But Meghan couldn’t see how the truth wouldn’t just make the situation of her parentage more painful, more awful.

“I’ll do it,” Meghan said.

“I can—”

“You’re already doing so much as executor. I’ll do this. And I’ll research”—she peeled the card away from where Sarah clutched it to her chest and looked at it again—“ZP and think of a plan.”

“A plan of honesty?”

Meghan blew out a breath, thought about making a joke hoping to ease Sarah’s obvious worry and the sickness churning in her belly, but she nodded.

“Chloe deserves to know.” Meghan had no doubt.

But when?

“She and Rustin are planning to marry this summer. She wanted to talk about it with us next Monday night, since Rustin’s not working,” Sarah said. “I thought I’d make us dinner here—have us all be together while we plan the wedding, just like we planned many parties with Grandma Millie in the past.”

Sarah looked around Grandma Millie’s bedroom.

“So many memories in this home. I still feel her here with me.”

Meghan shivered. “Is it kinda freaky, like she’s maybe still here in spirit?”

“I wish she were,” Sarah said sadly, and Meghan wondered if she still thought about her husband that way. Felt him. Wished he were with her. “We could ask her what to do.”

“Ask her why she never told Chloe,” Meghan said bitterly. “But would it have made a difference? Chloe must have asked at some point. Wondered.”

“Of course she does, but Grandma Millie must have kept it a secret to protect her and her son. Otherwise, the whole town would have known the minute Chloe could talk, which was early.”

Despite her stress, Meghan laughed. “True. Chloe can’t keep a secret for five minutes.”

“I don’t want secrets between us,” Sarah said softly. “Is Monday night enough time for us to get some information? Make a plan? Do you think we should wait until after the wedding?” Sarah looked to her for answers, ironic because Sarah, as the oldest of them, had always been their leader, and moral compass.

“I don’t feel right waiting that long,” Meghan said. “But I’m not sure how to tell her or when.”

“Play it by ear?” Sarah’s expression indicated this was her last choice. “And what about Jessica? She has a right to know.”

“Before Chloe?” Meghan demanded.

Sarah faintly colored. Meghan hopped to her feet. This conversation was veering into the way-too-emotional zone, and she felt that they should be standing or maybe in the kitchen drinking hot tea. Or a cocktail.

She held out her hand and pulled Sarah up and hugged her hard.

“We’ll get through this,” Meghan said.

“We just don’t have secrets from each other,” Sarah said softly.

Meghan couldn’t help the wry look. “Don’t we, sister?”

Sarah colored more. “Everyone has secrets. Trust me on that happy or unhappy little truism.”