Her voice cracked. She stopped and pressed her hand over her mouth for a second.
“No card came that day,” she said.
At the back of the barn, I saw Crystal go very still.
Hannah took the rubber band off the shoebox. She opened the lid.
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It was full of cards. Dozens of them. Pink and blue and yellow and white. Birthday cards and
Christmas cards. Some of them had glitter. Some of them had animals on them. Some of them had been opened and read so many times that the folds had gone soft as cloth.Book Venues
“But five days later,” Hannah said, “a card came. From Arizona. And it said, ‘Happy birthday, my
sweet girl. I think about you every single day.’ And it was signed, ‘Love always, Mom.’”
She picked up the top card. It was pink, with a white rabbit on the front.
