When Elizabeth discovered the yellowing, brittle diary in the dusty trunk stashed in her recently departed grandmother’s attic, she considered lighting the house on fire. History was repeating itself. All those whispers between family members were true; her mother was illegitimate. As sweat ran down her face, the oppressive humidity of the attic closed in further as Elizabeth contemplated the only question that now mattered. Would she tell her daughter the truth about her birth father, the man who’d blazed briefly into Elizabeth’s life, leaving her breathless then heartbroken, or would she continue her family legacy of secrecy and silence?
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