I read only the first one.

It said she hoped I had learned to ride my bicycle and that she remembered how I used to insist the moon followed our car.

I put it down.

There were too many years in the box, and I could not swallow them all at once.

‘Why didn’t you send them?’ I asked.

‘At first I was afraid Walter would use them to find me,’ she answered.

‘Later I was afraid you’d read them and ask why I hadn’t come myself.’ She looked down.