The teenagers sat at tables doing their homework. The volunteers spoke with the families. A handmade sign near the entrance read:
“You belong here.”
Attached to the photograph was a brief note.
Without anger.
Without bitterness.
Just seven words.
“Thank you for finally telling the truth.”
Ryan framed it.
The photograph now hangs in our hallway.
The tattoo is still there too.
Because once I finally knew the truth about the woman my husband carried on his shoulder, I stopped seeing any other woman.
And they began to see the truth.
