I settled Evelyn’s reading glasses on my nose and bent closer to the page.

“I’m writing this on a Tuesday morning while you’re out at the hardware store,” she had written.

“Brandon came by the house yesterday while you were buying paint.

I found him down in the study, opening the steel box where we keep the corporate deeds.”

I gripped the page tighter against the wind.

“He didn’t see me standing in the hall,” the letter went on.

“When I asked what he was looking for, he shut the drawer and told me we were getting old.