My Best Friend Married My Father——Then On My Birthday, She Gave Me a Black Box and Told Me to Open It Alone

piece of paper tucked deep into the pocket of Lydia’s cardigan. She saw me looking and instinctively shifted, shielding the pocket with her arm.

“What’s that?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

“A grocery list,” she replied too quickly.

“Since when do you hide grocery lists?” I tried to keep my tone light, but it came out sharp.

She laughed—a brittle, forced continue reading …