My husband went missing in 2005. Yesterday, I got a birthday card from him that said, «I never left — look in the basement.»…

I didn’t need to. He had been exposed, not with violence, not with scandal, but with quiet, undeniable truth. That was the justice I never knew I needed, because the real power wasn’t in what I took from him.

It was in what I reclaimed for myself. It was a rainy Wednesday when Brenna called. I was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters after baking a batch of lemon shortbread, the kind Ellis used to love but never thanked me for.

These days, I bake them for myself, no longer trying to please a ghost. My phone buzzed. Brenna’s name lit up the screen.

«‘Hey, sweetheart,’ I said, pressing it to my ear. Her voice was unusually soft. «‘Hi, Mom.

You busy?’ «‘Just finished baking,’ I replied, sensing something in her tone. «‘What’s going on?’ She hesitated for a second, then said it. «‘I got a letter.

From Dad time didn’t stop. Not really. But something inside me did.

I turned off the sink faucet, wiped my hands on a towel, and sat at the kitchen table. «‘A letter?’ I asked gently. «‘Yeah, just a couple pages.

Handwritten, no return address. He said he’d been following my life from afar, and that he hoped someday I’d forgive him. He said he never stopped loving me.

I closed my eyes. The fact that he had the audacity to reach out, after everything, didn’t surprise me. But it still hurt.

«‘What did you think?’ I asked carefully. She sighed. I didn’t reply.

«‘I don’t think I will. Honestly, I’m just confused. He wants forgiveness, but not a relationship.

He says he’s sorry, but never really explains why he left.’ «‘That sounds about right,’ I said softly. There was silence on the line. Then she said something I hadn’t expected.

«‘Did you ever think he’d come back?’ I thought about that. Not in terms of hope. That had died a long time ago.

But in terms of expectation. Whether I ever truly believed Ellis would one day appear, knock on the door, and say he’d made a mistake. «‘I used to,’ I admitted.

For a long time. I used to imagine the doorbell ringing, him standing there with tears and apologies and some story about losing his mind or needing to start over. I wrote entire conversations in my head that never happened.

Then I realized I didn’t actually want him to come back. «‘Why not?’ she asked. Because I finally started liking the woman I was becoming without him.

Brenna was quiet again. I could hear the weight of that statement settling over her. «‘I always wondered what you weren’t telling me,’ she said.

When I was younger, I thought maybe it was too painful for you to talk about. But I think I get it now. You were protecting me from the ugly truth.’ I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.

«‘I didn’t want you to carry his absence like a burden. I wanted you to live your life freely, not chasing a shadow or resenting him. He made his choice.

I didn’t want it to steal your joy too.’ Her voice cracked a little. «‘You never said anything bad about him.’ I know, but that doesn’t mean I thought good things.’ She gave a half laugh. «‘You’re stronger than I ever realized, mom.’ «‘No,’ I said.

I’m just no longer afraid of the truth.’ We talked for another hour, not about Alice, but about her work, her dog, her latest book club drama, just mother and daughter, comfortable and whole. After we hung up, I went out to the garden. The rain had stopped, leaving everything glistening and new.

I walked slowly between the rows of lavender and rosemary, breathing in the wet earth. I didn’t need Brenna to choose sides. I didn’t need her to hate her father or even confront him…