Later, while washing her clothes, I found a hidden pocket stitched into her jumper. Inside was a velvet pouch, holding a silver baby bracelet with a pink foot charm. Engraved on it was one word: Angela. My name.
She had planned to name her daughter after me.
The story I’d been telling myself shattered. Yes, she betrayed me. But he had pursued her, lied to us both, promised her security, then abandoned her. He destroyed us both.
