I had not heard my maiden name from a stranger in thirty years.

“My name is Helen Brooks now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice softened.

“And your husband was Thomas Brooks.

He died six years ago.

Your daughter, Anna, and her husband, Daniel, were killed three years ago.

You have legal guardianship of their daughter, Poppy.”

I went cold.

“You can find all of that on the internet.”

“Some of it.

Not what is in this envelope.”

He raised the envelope so I could see that it was sealed.

There was no company logo.

Only my name, written in ink, in handwriting that made my heart twist before I understood why.