dance floor to a song about sunshine.
When the song ended, Hannah kissed my cheek.
“I need to tell you the rest,” she said. “But not here. Can we go somewhere?”
We went to the little bridal room at the back of the barn. Hannah closed the door. She sat down on a white velvet couch and pulled me down next to her.
“She told me she sent them,” Hannah said.
I looked at her.
“The first week she came back,” Hannah said. “I showed her the shoebox. I was so happy. I said, ‘Look, I kept every single one.’ And she looked at them, and she got all teary, and she said, ‘Oh,
baby. I can’t believe you kept them all.’”
I closed my eyes.
“She knew,” Hannah said. “She had to know. She’d never sent me a single thing. But she looked
right at me and let me think she did. And then she started telling me those stories. About how you wouldn’t let her in the house. About how you hung up on her.”
