“Yes.”
He nodded a couple of times.
Then he said my first name.
“Sarah?”
I hadn’t told him.
I said, “Do I know you?”
He gave a nervous little laugh.
“Probably not anymore.”
That answer annoyed me more than anything.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he reached under the counter, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and held it out — not to me, but to Ellie.
“Make sure your mom reads this,” he said quietly. “All of it. Tonight.”
Then he put the truck in gear and drove off before I could say another word.
That night, after Ellie was asleep, I sat at the kitchen table and unfolded the note.
And by the third line, my hands were shaking.
