“You let her spend her whole life searching.”
Beside it stood two photographs.
One of Eleanor, and one of my father as a boy.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.
I never got to tell her the truth.
But she had found her family after all.
“You let her spend her whole life searching.”
Beside it stood two photographs.
One of Eleanor, and one of my father as a boy.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.
I never got to tell her the truth.
But she had found her family after all.