After my mother passed away, I moved into her house and noticed my mail wasn’t arriving. Checking the surveillance camera, I saw my neighbor, Mr. Thompson, stealing it. The next morning, I confronted him, but he denied it. “That’s ridiculous! Why would I take your mail?” he said, looking irritated.

Determined to catch him, I waited for the mailman the next day and saw Mr. Thompson again. He froze when he saw me with a letter, then hurried back to his house. The letter I received was from my estranged father, revealing that he had been sending letters to my mother for years, expressing his regret and asking her to tell me about him.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, I went to confront Mr. Thompson again. This time, he admitted that he was my father, Jack, who had been spying on me and intercepting the letters out of guilt and fear. He rented the house next door to keep an eye on me after my mother’s death.

I was shocked and angry but decided to try and understand. We began to rebuild our relationship, and I met my half-sister, Emily, and her children. As we spent time together, I felt a sense of belonging and hope for the future.