Her Name Was Annie by Beth Rinyu (books for 9th graders TXT) 📗
- Author: Beth Rinyu
Book online «Her Name Was Annie by Beth Rinyu (books for 9th graders TXT) 📗». Author Beth Rinyu
I’ll end this letter not with a goodbye of my own because I feel as if we never got to even say hello. Instead, I end it with this: It is the greatest honor of my life to know that a part of me will carry on in you, your daughter, and her future children. Even though we never met, I will always hold a special place in my heart for…a baby named Annie, the girl named Francesca, and the woman named Stephanie.
Yours truly,
Tommy Cavlan
Tears spilled from my eyes onto the paper, smearing some of the ink. I placed the letter back on the nightstand, smoothing out the paper, allowing it to dry and preserve the heartfelt words placed upon it. How I wished I could’ve met him, at least once, instead of watching him take his life. So much guilt, so much sorrow, but through it all there was so much love. That was so apparent through his words. He never stopped loving Francesca. Even when she wasn’t there with him physically, she always remained in his heart. Such a beautiful, tragic love story and in a weird way, I was happy to be part of it. His final request loomed heavily on my mind—justice for Francesca for what had been taken from her. In that plea, I also sensed another hidden desire—justice for himself for the life he could’ve had.
Chapter 30
FRANCESCA’S FACE ON the screen of my phone was a welcoming sight. Kara had decided to opt out of our weekend FaceTime call we had planned. She wanted to meet Francesca for the first time in person. I respected her wishes and Francesca did as well when I explained it to her. We took each other on a virtual tour of our homes, drank a cup of coffee together, and laughed like old friends sitting in the same kitchen and not miles apart. It wasn’t until midway into our chat that I brought up the letter, reading it to her through tears on both our parts.
“He was always so good with words.” She smiled. “I swear, he could’ve become a famous writer.” She wiped her eyes and placed her focus back on the camera. “So there you have it. You were a product of love. You were wanted so desperately by me, and you would’ve been wanted by him as well. If it weren’t for—”
“His brother,” I whispered.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“I know this may be none of my business, and you can tell me so if I’m overstepping. Did you think any more about confronting his brother?”
She wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug and closed her eyes. “Oh, I have. More times than I can remember. But what good would it do? Who would believe me? I mean, look how they’re ripping up that poor woman who’s accusing him of it now, and that was only a few years ago. Could you imagine the field day they’d have with me, popping out of the woodwork almost fifty years later?”
I understood her doubts and fears completely, but at the same time, she had a right to have her voice heard, no matter how much time had passed. “Yes, but you have proof.”
“No. I never reported to the police. My parents didn’t believe me, and the last thing they wanted was a scandal brought on by their daughter. Plus, they didn’t have DNA back then like they do now.”
“You have the letter you wrote to Tommy. The one he gave back to you. It spells everything out.” Her eyes widened as if she suddenly remembered it. “Even if they don’t believe you—he knows the truth. Let him know that you never forgot what he did to you. I’ll be there every step of the way if you want me to be.”
She softened her gaze and stared at me with gratitude. “Oh, Stephanie. You don’t know how much that means to me. You’ve really given me a lot to think about, but I think I just need to find the courage to do it.”
“Well, just know if you do, I’ll be here if you need me.”
“I will be forever grateful to Tommy for finding you.” She smiled.
“Me too.” I smiled back.
We changed the topic of conversation, ending the call with Francesca’s tentative plans to visit in February when I had a few days off from school. I found that I always hated when Christmas was over and a new year began, but this year, I was actually looking forward to ushering in the new year. I had so much to look forward to. The front door slammed and the familiar clomping of Max’s paws hitting the hardwood floor came closer. Kara was right behind him with her pink nose almost matching her pink jacket.
“So how does Max rate as a running buddy?” I asked.
“Pretty good if I wanted to stop every ten seconds to lift my leg.” She took off her earmuffs and placed them on the counter. “It’s freezing out there!”
“That’s why I’m inside with my coffee.” I grinned.
“So how’d your FaceTime call go?” she asked, taking a seat next to me after fixing her coffee.
“Oh, it was fun. She’s possibly making a trip out here in February.”
“That’s cool,” Kara replied. “I’m really happy for you, Mom. You seem a lot happier than you’ve been in a while.”
“What? Did I seem unhappy before?”
“No. It’s just…I don’t know. Maybe more like lonely than unhappy.”
“I am not lonely at all, Kara.”
“Okay.” She shrugged, not seeming too convinced.
“I want to show you something.” I slid the letter I had read to Francesca earlier across the table to Kara. She stared down at the envelope, then back at me.
“Is this from your—”
“My biological father,” I finished.
She pulled the letter out with the same wariness as I had when I first opened it. Her eyes glazed over as she read on. I reached for a napkin and handed it to her when the first teardrop fell onto
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