Nathaniel shook his head.
“I believe it fell from my coat when I got out of a car near Aldridge Street.”
Ruby grinned.
“So there wasn’t a mystery?”
“Apparently not.”
The elevator doors began closing.
Ruby waved.
“Sometimes things just fall out of pockets.”
The doors shut.
Nathaniel stood alone for a moment.
Then he looked toward his office, toward Eleanor’s framed letter, and smiled.
Sometimes they did.
And sometimes what fell out was not the thing that mattered.
That evening, Ruby sat on the front steps of 114 Aldridge Street.
The rusty bus stop was visible at the end of the block.
Mr. Harris worked a crossword beside her.
Mrs. Alvarez watered flowers above them.
Caleb was in the basement with Claire, helping repair a light fixture that had flickered for approximately eleven years.
They had become friends again.
Nothing had been rushed.
Nothing needed to be.
Claire had learned that forgiveness did not require pretending the missing years had never happened.
