I stood in the doorway with my heart pounding while Helen looked straight at me. She did not flinch or look away. Slowly she said, in a rough and cracked voice, “Please do not be angry with Toby. This was all my idea.” Hearing her speak after six months of silence made my knees go weak. Russell’s leaf blower still roared in the garage, and nobody knew I was home.

Then she reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a small folded letter with my name on the front. “Before you say anything, read this,” she whispered. “I have been waiting a long time to give it to you.” My hands shook as I took it. Toby hid behind her leg, and the open blue box sat between us. I unfolded the page, and the very first line made my chest ache.