So from that day on, Sunny became a forbidden word between us.
My daughter had despised that nickname. She would never have brought it up to her husband willingly.
And she certainly would never have called Sunny her savior.
Someone was lying.
While my mind raced, my son-in-law spoke again:
"Mom, Julia grew up with just you. Do you know this Sunny?"
I didn't give him an honest answer.
She looked at her son-in-law, silent for two seconds, then shook her head calmly.
"No idea."
A flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes.
"I was hoping to find Sunny and thank her properly. It would've fulfilled one of Julia's wishes." He paused. "But if you don't know her either, I guess it'll have to wait."
I didn't respond. I lowered my head and went back to feeding paper into the flames.
But the more I burned, the heavier the doubt sat in my chest.
My husband had died young. I'd raised Julia on my own.
Juggling a child and a job had been grueling, but Julia had always been easy. She'd been sensible from the time she was small, never giving me a reason to worry.
She was a kind girl. In her entire life, she'd never once gotten into a fight with anyone, let alone made an enemy.