Moral For 4 Years, My Parents Told Neighbors, Teachers, And Even Our Pastor That I Was In Prison. “She Made Terrible Choices,” Mom Would Say With A Sigh.

“Yes,” I told her. “And they can still come home, even when someone tries to lock the door.”

That evening, I opened every window in Grandma’s house and unpacked my duffel for the final time. At the bottom sat one letter I had never mailed.

Dear Mom and Dad, it began, I hope you’re proud of me.

I read it once, folded it carefully, and put it away.

Not because I was hiding anymore.

Because some things deserve to stay in the past.

And for the first time in four years, nobody in that town was telling my story except me.