I sat down cross-legged on the hardwood floor.

I took the muddy blue passbook out of my canvas bag and set it carefully on the floorboards.

Next to it, I laid the clean white letter Gregory had given me.

I reached back into my bag and pulled out the embroidered cloth napkin I had taken from Beatrice’s old bedroom that afternoon.

I set it gently above the passbook.

The letter from Gregory looked undeniably real.