She even remembered that Willa wanted to study nursing.
That surprised me almost as much as anything else.
When we’d finished eating, habit took over.
I stood and began stacking the plates.
Mrs.
Whitaker immediately reached across the table and placed her hand over mine.
“Leave those.”
I looked at her.
For eight years, I’d never left dirty dishes sitting on that table.
Then she stood.
“There’s something I need to show you.”
Her voice sounded different now.
More serious.
She walked toward the hallway and motioned for me to follow.
I expected another box.
Maybe some furniture she didn’t want to take with her.
Instead, Mrs.
Whitaker stopped beside a small cabinet near the stairs.
She opened the top drawer.
Then she removed a thick envelope with my name written across the front.
