out an envelope.
My name was written across the front.
In Teagan’s handwriting.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
My daughter had been gone for ten years.
“Where did you get that?”
“She gave it to me.”
“When?”
“The day Lucas was born.”
My fingers tightened around the flowers I was carrying.
“You’ve had a letter from my daughter for ten years?”
The woman lowered her eyes.
“Yes.”
Before I could answer, I heard Lucas calling from the bottom of the hill.
“Grandma! I found it!”
He was running toward