My Daughter’s Secret
Language: en
It was a freezing Sunday morning, and I was lighting a fresh memorial candle at my daughter's grave. My son-in-law, Oliver, suddenly broke the silence, asking if I knew where Sweetpea lived. He told me that before Lily died, she constantly talked about someone named Sweetpea, calling this person her savior. He said he wanted to pay them a visit to show his gratitude. My hand froze in midair. I almost dropped the lighter. Sweetpea wasn't some stranger. It was the embarrassing childhood nickname I had given my daughter. When Lily grew up, she thought the name was incredibly childish and…