The Letter Had This Week’s Postmark

Calm. Steady. Some version of a man with answers.

Instead I heard myself say, “Maybe somebody’s messing with us.”

Maya’s eyes flashed. “Who would do that?”

I had nothing.

So I picked up the envelope.

It was real stationery. Thick paper. Not some printer trick from a kid with too much time. The flap was sealed with the kind of glue you wet with your tongue.continue reading …