When dessert was served—a delicate tiramisu with a hint of espresso, Michael’s favorite—I decided it was time. I cleared my throat, drawing everyone’s eyes to me. “I have something I’d like to share with the family as well,” I announced, keeping my tone light.
Reaching under the table, I retrieved the manila envelope I had carefully prepared. Its weight felt significant in my hands, not just in paper but in the truth it contained. I placed it in front of Michael, who looked at it with mild curiosity, then at me with a flicker of apprehension.
“These are for you, Michael,” I said, pushing the envelope closer. “Consider them my contribution to tonight’s revelations.”
