A Suitcase of Promises: How I Sold My Father’s Hope for Peace

touch anything else my father had left behind.

Finally, I took it.

The paper felt thin, like it could tear with a hard breath.

“I’m not supposed to read this,” I said out loud, like the rules might save me.

The nurse gave me a tired, kind smile. “I think you’re supposed to.”

I sat in my car in the parking lot.

Same spot where I’d opened the suitcase and continue reading …