Fifteen Years After My Father Changed the Locks, He Seated Me at Table Twenty-Two

From under the podium she lifted a bundle tied with kitchen twine.

The stack was thick enough that she needed both hands.

“Forty-three letters,” Clare said.

“Every one in Evelyn’s handwriting.

Every one addressed to me.

Every one unopened.”

A server came through the kitchen doors with a tray and stopped.

Gerald’s mouth worked once before any sound came out.