“But if you’re willing — I’d like to know you.
Whatever that looks like.
Whatever pace makes sense.
I’d like the chance.”
Claire was quiet for a moment.
Then she said: “I’d like that too.”
Tom put his arm around her shoulders.
Outside, the afternoon was tipping toward evening.
The light through the window had gone gold.
“There’s one more thing,” Anna said carefully.
“Something I didn’t mention earlier because I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”
We all looked at her.
She reached back into her cardigan pocket and placed a second envelope on the table.
Smaller than the first.
More recent.
The paper was white, not yellowed.
“This came three weeks ago,” she said.
“Before Carol passed.
She must have sent it when she knew she didn’t have long.”
