"Give me that."
I tore it open. Laura's handwriting. A coastal town postmark I'd never heard of.
"She wrote to me. Once."
Diane, please. Just give me time. The girls are safe. I'll come home when I can. Don't tell him yet. I need to be strong enough first.
My eyes blurred.
"She never came home, Diane."
"I don't know why. I waited, I kept waiting, and then too many years passed and I was too afraid to—"
"Where is this town?"
"Daniel—"
"The girls are safe."
"Where?"
She told me.
I stared at the postmark, at the date, at the impossible curve of Laura's handwriting.
Diane's voice broke behind me.
"Laura was alive when she wrote this. I don't know if she still is. But you deserve to find out."
The drive to the coast takes six hours. None of us speak much.
"You deserve to find out."
Ethan grips the steering wheel. Adam stares at the postmark on the envelope like it might disappear.
"Dad, what if it's not her?" Adam finally asks.
"Then we come home," I say. "But we have to know."
"And if it is her?" Ethan glances at me.
I don't answer. I can't.
We pull up to a modest blue house with white shutters. My legs feel like water as I walk to the door.
"But we have to know."
I knock. Three times. Soft.
The door opens. A woman stands there, gray-haired, weathered, but those eyes.
"Laura?" I whisper.
She covers her mouth. Tears spill instantly.
"You found us," she breathes. "Oh God, you found us."
