Single Dad Fixed a Stranger's Motorcycle for Free — Then He Found Her Crying at an Abandoned Bridge

Chapter 47

Theme:
Font Size:
24px

Daniel continued.

"You knew what home was like for me. You knew how much I hated being lied to."

"I remember."

He turned.

"And now I've got a daughter who trusts me to tell her the truth."

Nora wiped her cheeks.

"She deserves that."

"Yes."

He looked toward her.

"And so do I."

She nodded.

For a while, the room was silent.

Then Nora spoke.

"I have something to show you."

Daniel did not answer immediately.

She rose.

Walked to the desk.

And returned carrying an old photograph.

She placed it on the table.

Daniel looked down.

He saw the bridge.

A dark-haired boy.

A girl smiling beside him.

The tiny fish held between the boy's fingers.

His throat tightened.

He picked up the photograph.

For several seconds, he stared.

Then he laughed softly.

"I remember that fish."

Nora smiled through tears.

"You said it was enormous."

"It was."

She looked toward the image.

"It was barely four inches long."

Daniel smiled.

"An enormous four inches."

For the first time that afternoon, they laughed together.

The sound felt familiar.

Painfully so.

Then Daniel grew quiet.

He turned the photograph over.

On the back, in faded handwriting, was a date.

August 1980.

He looked at Nora.

"You kept this?"

"I found it in my father's things."

He nodded.

Nora placed another paper beside it.

The letter she had written after returning to Bellweather.

Daniel read the first line.

I am the girl from the bridge.

He looked toward her.

"What's this?"

"What I wanted to tell you before the accident."

He read the entire page.

Nora remained silent.

When he finished, he folded it carefully.

Then looked at her.

"I believe you wrote a letter when you left."

Her face changed.

"You do?"

"Yes."

Tears filled her eyes.

He continued.

"I don't need a piece of paper to believe your father took you away."

She began crying.

But then he added something that made her stop.

"Believing what happened forty-six years ago doesn't mean I can ignore what happened three months ago."

Nora nodded.

"I understand."

Daniel looked toward the photograph.

Then said quietly, "We were children."

She stared.

He continued.

"We loved each other the way children love. With big promises and no idea how much life could change."

Nora looked down.

He took a breath.

"I married Elise."

"I know."

News in the same category

Single Dad Fixed a Stranger's Motorcycle for Free — Then He Found Her Crying at an Abandoned Bridge

70 Part