A Stranger Left an Envelope Beside My Bed on My Sixty-Second Birthday—Then I Found His Photograph with My Son
The little blue stones were intact.
My mother had given them to me when I finished college.
She had worn them herself to my wedding, and I liked that they belonged to more than one happy day.
I closed the hallway drawer without discovering why it had been open.
Within forty-eight hours, I would remember that narrow opening more clearly than anything Greg had said about the delivery.
For now, I packed my green overnight bag.