“That counts for something.”
Tom put his hand over hers on the table.
“You don’t have to open it now,” I said.
“I know.” Claire reached out and picked it up.
She turned it over once.
Her name, in that unfamiliar hand.
A woman she had never met, who had shaped the entire course of her life without ever being in the same room as her.
She opened it.
One page.
I could see from where I sat that it was not a long letter.
Carol had never been someone who used more words than she needed.
Claire read it in silence.
Her face was very still.
Tom watched her.
Anna watched the window.
When she finished, she set it down and pressed both hands flat against the table.
“She apologized,” Claire said.
