My name and address were written across it.
The address was correct.
My childhood home.
The house where I still lived.
Across the front, in large red letters, were two words.
RETURN TO SENDER.
I took it.
“Why was this returned?”
“No idea.”
“I’ve lived at that address my entire life.”
“I know.”
“The post office wouldn’t return it.”
“That’s what we thought.”
I looked closer.
There was no postal marking.
No barcode.
No stamp cancellation.
Nothing.
Only those red words.
“These weren’t stamped by the post office.”
“No.”
My heart began beating faster.
“Then who returned it?”
Lucas didn’t answer.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter from Margaret.
Dear Hannah,
You do not know me.
My name is Margaret Ellis.
I am Douglas’s wife.
I imagine that sentence alone might make you want to stop reading, but I hope you won’t.
