My thoughts went somewhere dark very quickly.
I sat back on my heels and tried to breathe.
What had my husband been doing?
A Small Cross on Every Page
I looked through the notebook more carefully. The handwriting was Michael’s — neat, deliberate, the way he always wrote when something mattered to him. But what caught my eye was a tiny symbol drawn at the bottom of every single page.
A small cross.
I had no idea what it meant. But it made me pause. It did not look like a criminal code or a hidden message. It looked almost like a personal mark. Like something someone would add out of quiet faith or quiet intention.
I opened another envelope.
Inside were photographs.
Children, young ones, in simple worn clothing, standing in front of a modest building. They were smiling in some of the photos. In others, they were sitting in rows, looking at something beyond the camera.
On the back of one photograph, written in Michael’s hand: San Pedro Community School — Cebu.
I stared at those words for a long time.
The Letter
At the bottom of the bag, beneath everything else, there was a folded piece of paper.
My name was written on the front.
I recognized his handwriting before I even unfolded it.
The letter began simply. He told me that if I was reading it, then I had found what he had been keeping from me. He asked me not to react before I had read every word.
He explained that the money was not connected to anything illegal. He had not betrayed me. He had not been living a second life.
