« You’ve had a letter from my daughter for ten years? »
My grandson was running back from the car, waving the birthday card he’d made for his mother.
The woman looked toward him.
« Don’t open this in front of him. »
I stared at her.
« Who are you? »
« Don’t open this in front of him. »
« My name is Trudy. »
« That tells me nothing. »
« I knew Teagan at the hospital. I was her nurse. »