I Was Hired To Pretend To Be His Granddaughter

little brick house with the wind chime on the porch and the terrible front step that always tilted under my foot.

Then I remember.

And for a second the world goes very quiet.

A few weeks ago, I opened the top drawer of my dresser looking for a phone charger and found the first note he wrote me.

The one from the cedar box.

The paper’s gone soft at the folds continue reading …