at the gate, he will be on the road. Be careful. Please be careful with her.
I’m sorry to put this on you. I didn’t have anybody else.
— Sarah
I read the letter three times.
Then I folded it back up. Slow. Careful. Like it might fall apart in my hands. The little girl — Lily — hadn’t moved. She was watching me read about her own mother dying.
I cleared continue reading …
