He looked at me.
“You were on my list, Sarah.”
My throat tightened.
“For three years.”
He laughed softly.
“I just never imagined I’d find you because your daughter walked up to my truck looking exactly like you did thirty years ago.”
That night, after Ellie fell asleep, I sat at my kitchen table and opened Walter’s letter.
My tea sat beside me until it went completely cold.
The letter broke my heart.
Then somehow put part of it back together.
Walter wrote that he had driven the Maple Street
