Every spring, he carefully cleaned it.
Even when the paint began peeling.
I suddenly understood why.
His granddaughter had made it.
I sank into the chair.
For almost a minute, I couldn't breathe properly.
Then I whispered:
“I want to meet them.”
Mr. Harrison nodded.
“I think they'd like that.”
I wiped my eyes.
“But not today.”
“Of course.”
I gathered the documents.
As I stood to leave, he placed one final photograph in my hand.
Thomas stood beside Julian and Lucy.
All three were laughing.
The photograph had been taken in our garden.
I recognized the hydrangeas.
The little stone bench.
The purple birdhouse.
My breath caught.
“This was at my house.”
Mr. Harrison nodded.
“Last summer.”
I stared at him.
“Thomas brought them to my house?”
“You were visiting your sister.”
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then a terrible thought crossed my mind.
Had Thomas been waiting for me to find out?
