Grace Bennett — The Daughter He Never Knew
We moved slowly through the rooms like two people touring a museum they had both once mistaken for a home.
At the dining table he found a folded note with my handwriting on it, tucked inside a cookbook.
Don’t forget lunch.
You’re operating tomorrow.
Love, Grace.
He held it without speaking.
“I used to put those in your briefcase,” I said.
“I remember.”