In October, My Husband Left a Manila Envelope on Our Kitchen Table and Walked Out Into the Rain

If anything comes in the mail, photograph it before you open it.”

“Mom.” The chair creaked again.

“There was a man this morning.

Nine o’clock.

He asked for you by name, and when I said you weren’t home he put a paper in the screen door.”

I sat forward.

“What did it say?”

“I didn’t open it.