Hannah Campbell — The Envelope After Thirteen Years
He arrived early.
His expensive coat was folded across an empty chair, and the thirteen letters were arranged in a neat stack beside his coffee.
“I looked for you,” he said as soon as I sat down.
“No,” I replied.
“You knew where the twins went to school.
You had my phone number for years.
Your attorney sent paperwork to my house.
You didn’t look.”