I typed out a message to Sarah. I deleted it. I typed it again. “Sarah, we need to talk.”

I stopped. That sounded too ominous. I didn’t want to scare her.

I decided to just be blunt. I’ll invite her over for tea on Tuesday.

I’ll put the ring on the table. And then, I’ll tell her the one thing she needs to know.

I’ll look her in the eye and say, “Your father didn’t give you your mother’s ring because he sold it the day after she died.”

That’s what I’ll say. And then I’ll see what happens. It might destroy the image she has of him, but at least she’ll have the truth. And she’ll have her mother’s ring, the real one, back where it belongs.

I’m scared to death, honestly. But I’m more scared of keeping this lie for the rest of my life.

I’ll see her on Tuesday. I have to.