He grinned and moved the truck toward the lake drawing on the wall.

I opened the kitchen drawer to put away the school copy.

My fingers touched the letter envelope, but I left it inside.

The promise stayed there.

It was not on the wall, in the boys’ hands, or waiting at Daniel’s new apartment.

It was part of our family history that no longer needed to run our family.

I closed the drawer and reached for the dish towel.

Ben drove the truck back across the table while I folded the last corner.