After that…
Nothing.
The letters simply ended.
Amanda looked up.
“There must be more.”
Lily’s voice remained gentle.
“I don’t understand,” Amanda gasped.
Grace answered first.
“We stopped writing.”
Amanda frowned.
Amelia folded her hands.
“Because one day we realized we weren’t writing to someone anymore.” She paused. “We were writing to an empty place.”
The words settled over the room.
The letters were not evidence presented against her.
They were fifteen years of childhood preserved exactly as it had happened.
At the bottom of the bag was one final envelope.
Amanda opened it slowly.
Three recipe cards slipped into her hands.
My handwriting.
Lily gave a faint smile.
“Grandma made those whenever one of us was having a hard day.”
Amanda read the first card.
When life feels too heavy… Make hot chocolate in the chipped blue mug.
She turned it over.
Grace had written on the back years earlier:
