The Letter Had This Week’s Postmark

“Where did you get that?”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she carried it to the kitchen island and carefully placed it between us.

Then she reached into her hoodie pocket.

There was an envelope.

Cream-colored.

Perfectly sealed.

She slid it across the countertop without taking her eyes off me.

I only needed one glance.

I knew that handwriting.

Every curve.

Every letter.continue reading …