Dad arrived home around six o’clock.
The moment he stepped inside, he sensed something was wrong.
Neither of us said anything.
Mom simply pointed toward the kitchen table.
“What is this?”
He looked down.
Then back at us.
Then down again.
For several seconds…
He said absolutely nothing.
Which only made things worse.
Mom’s eyes filled with tears.
“If there’s something you need to tell me…”
Dad blinked.
“What?”
“The truth.”
He looked genuinely confused.
“What truth?”
“The one you’ve been hiding.”
He stared at her for another long moment.
Then slowly picked up the small pouch.
And sighed.
Not the sigh of someone caught.
The sigh of someone realizing a misunderstanding had grown much larger than expected.
He sat down.
“I was hoping this would remain a surprise.”
Neither of us spoke.
He carefully opened the pouch again.
Inside…
