She’d asked me about him.
But today wasn’t a day for old ghosts. Today was a day for cake, lanterns, and my daughter laughing on the rug with her two best friends.
“Okay, this one first,” Hannah announced, reaching into the pile.
Her fingers moved toward a plain white envelope wedged between two wrapped boxes.
I don’t remember putting it there.
“Okay, this one first.”
Hannah’s fingers hovered over it. It had no bow, ribbon, or return address written in anyone’s familiar handwriting.
“Who’s this one from?” She asked, holding it up.
Ailani shrugged and glanced at Skylar.
“Not us,” Skylar said. “We found it sticking out of the mailbox, addressed to you, and just brought it in and propped it there.”
“Who’s this one from?”
I stepped closer, wiping my hands on the dish towel I’d been carrying. Something about that envelope made me worry before I could understand why.
