My world fell apart two years ago when my daughter Monica and son-in-law Stephen died in a terrible accident. I thought that. A strange letter and a questionable credit card transaction set me on a journey of discovery.
The mysterious message in the letter, “They’re not really gone,” gave people hope. As I looked into it more, I found a virtual card purchase made from Monica’s account right before they were said to have died. I followed every tip because I was determined to find the truth.
Everything changed when I saw my grandsons Andy and Peter by surprise at the beach. At a nearby café, they saw a pair that looked a lot like Monica and Stephen. I felt my heart skip a beat as I listened in on their talk and heard a shocking truth.
Monica and Stephen lied about dying to get away from loan sharks and their debt. I had to pick up the pieces after they left their kids. I felt torn between sympathy and anger as I thought about what their actions would mean.
When the cops showed up, they told everyone their new names. As Andy and Peter got back together with their parents, I wondered if telling everyone the truth was the right thing to do.
Now I have to deal with the fallout while balancing forgiveness, love, and family. The words from the strange letter keep coming back: “They’re not really gone.” I’ve learned that healing is a process, not a place you get to.
