Then she shut the door.
Robert placed an old envelope on the table.
The paper had yellowed slightly.
Elizabeth Wright was written across the return corner in faded blue ink.
Logan stared at it.
“You still haven’t opened it?” I asked.
“No,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because Dad found it in a box of Mom’s things. It was addressed to both of them.”
Robert nodded.
Margaret and Robert.
“Then maybe it belongs to you,” I said.
Logan shook his head.
“I think it belongs to all of us now.”
Robert carefully opened the envelope.
Inside were six handwritten pages.
The letter had been written two weeks before Logan’s birth.
Not because Elizabeth expected anything bad to happen.
Quite the opposite.
She was making plans.
She had accepted a job.
She was saving for a small apartment.
She had bought a secondhand crib.
She was arguing with Margaret about baby names.
