I adopted my best friend’s four daughters after losing her. Ten years later, flowers arrived at my door. The note with them stopped me cold.

Ten years after I adopted my dying best friend’s four daughters, flowers arrived on the oldest girl’s 18th birthday. The card was in Lily’s handwriting. “Their father has found you,” she warned. “Before you let him near my girls, there’s something you need to know.”

The smell of grilled corn drifted across the backyard while Maya laughed with her sisters near the picnic table.

She had turned eighteen that morning.

“Mom, you’re burning the burgers again,” Maya called out.

“I am not. I’m giving them character.”

She rolled her eyes at me, that same warm expression Lily used to give me a lifetime ago.

Then someone knocked at the front door.

She had turned eighteen that morning.

A young delivery driver stood there holding a bouquet of lilies.

I assumed they were birthday flowers for Maya, until I saw my name on the envelope tucked among the blooms.

I carried them into the kitchen.

My hands began to shake when I pulled out the envelope.

I hadn’t seen that handwriting in ten years.

I saw my name on the envelope.

I tore it open and unfolded the pages inside.

Thank you for raising my daughters. But now it’s time for you to learn THE TRUTH.

If you’re reading this, then the girls’ father has found you and will soon be at your door. You need to read this all the way through and do exactly what I’m asking you to do.

I sank into a chair.

The letter was from Lily, my best friend, the mother of the four girls I’d adopted.

But Lily had died ten years ago, so how could she be sending me flowers now?

The letter was from Lily

Their father, Richard, came from money; a family obsessed with appearances. He knew about our girls. He always knew.