plate of food and the miracle of one more day. Many cried. Others looked down. Tessa clutched her Tupperware to her chest.
I didn’t cry at first. I felt strangely calm. Until Liam approached with a folded piece of paper. —”My mom says you keep letters,” he said. —”Depends on who writes them.” —”I wrote this one.” I opened it. It said, in big, crooked continue reading …
