Part 13: The Letter She Never Sent
Maya found another letter while going through the last of her mother’s boxes.
It was dated three months before Lin died. It was addressed to Edward, but it had never been sent.
In it, Lin wrote about Maya’s childhood — the small apartment in Queens, the nights she worked two jobs, the way Maya used to fall asleep holding her camera like a teddy bear. She wrote about the pride she felt watching Maya grow into someone kind and strong, despite everything.
Near the end of the letter, Lin had written one sentence that made Maya put the paper down and walk to the window:
“I don’t regret raising her alone. But I do regret that she grew up thinking her father didn’t want her. That part still hurts.”
Maya sat with the letter for a long time.
That evening, she called Edward.
Maya
“I found something. A letter my mother wrote but never sent. She said she didn’t regret raising me alone… but she hated that I grew up thinking you didn’t want me.”
Edward was silent for several seconds.
Edward
“I deserve that. Every word of it.”
Maya
“I know. But I also know she never wanted me to hate you. She could have poisoned me against you so easily. She never did.”
Edward’s voice was rough when he answered.
Edward
“Your mother was a better person than I ever deserved.”
Maya looked out at the city lights.
Maya
“I think… I think I’m ready to stop punishing you for something my mother already forgave.”
May you like
Edward didn’t speak for a long time. When he finally did, his voice was barely above a whisper.
Edward
“Thank you.”
