I CAME HOME FROM MY MISTRESS’S HOUSE AT 4:17 A.M. AND FOUND A SOLD SIGN IN MY FRONT YARD
My hands shook as I picked up the note. For a moment, I simply stared at Hannah’s handwriting. I knew every curve of those letters. Every loop. Every line. Twenty years of birthday cards, grocery lists, and little notes left on the refrigerator. There was no mistake. This was hers. I unfolded the paper. Daniel,…