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

Then she was gone.

I sat with the coffee until it went cold, then walked back to the hotel.

At the desk, the clerk slid a sealed envelope across the counter before I asked for my key.

“This was left for you.”

“By who?”

“He didn’t leave a name.” The clerk checked the drawer.

“It was in the night box this morning.”

The envelope had my name typed on the front.