“Do you ever wish we’d never done it?”
I placed my hand over my stomach.
My baby kicked.
“No,” I answered softly. “I wish we’d been given accurate information. That’s different.”
Slowly, we began rebuilding our relationships with Margaret and Helen.
They apologized for concealing our history.
We asked difficult questions.
Sometimes they had answers.
Sometimes they admitted that fear had led them to make terrible decisions.
Forgiveness didn’t happen immediately.
But at least we were finally speaking honestly.
One afternoon, Margaret gave me a small silver necklace shaped like
