She intervened gently. “Adrian works in Chicago.”
Samuel considered this. “Do you know how to fix trains?”
I looked down at the wooden locomotive in his hand. One wheel had come loose.
“I can try.”
Julian brought me the small train and a screwdriver from a nearby drawer. I sat on the floor beside Samuel, careful not to move too close. He watched everything I did with solemn attention.Ship by Rail
The wheel required a small metal pin. My fingers were more accustomed to signing documents than repairing toys, but after several attempts, I managed to secure it.
Samuel pushed the train across the table.
“It works.”
“It does.”
Lily leaned toward me. “Can you make it go fast?”
“I can try.”
She smiled.
Across the room, Evelyn watched silently. There was no sudden transformation, no easy forgiveness. Only a small opening, fragile and undeserved.
I understood that it was enough.
Clara arrived at ten.
She was a slight
woman in her late sixties, with silver hair cut neatly at her jaw and a leather case held against her chest. When she entered the house, her eyes went immediately to Evelyn.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Evelyn stood near the fireplace. “You opened my letters.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
Clara’s hands trembled around the case.
“Your divorce was already difficult. Mrs. Moretti told me Adrian had instructed the office not to bring him personal correspondence. She said she would handle anything related to you.”Find Divorce Help
“And you believed her?”
“I believed I was following his wishes.”
“You never asked him.”
“No.”
The answer was honest and painful.
Clara set the case on the table and opened it. Inside were envelopes tied with a faded blue ribbon, medical records, and copies of legal documents.
“I kept everything,” she said. “I knew it should have been delivered, but once I understood what Mrs. Moretti
was doing, I was afraid to confront her. Then months passed. And years.”
Evelyn touched the top envelope but didn’t pick it up.
