I Was Hired To Pretend To Be His Granddaughter

paper went soft at the folds.

Linda called me once.

About four months after the will reading.

I almost didn’t answer.

She sounded older somehow. Tired in a way I recognized.

“I found something in my father’s desk,” she said. “A note. About the baby.”

I sat down at my kitchen table.

The same table where I’d found her hospital bill years earlier. Different continue reading …