And beneath it, in faded ink, were four words:

She knows where he is.

Part 3 When Douglas and I were 19, we made a promise that if neither of us was married by the time we turned 60, we would find each other again

PART 3

I read the words again.

She knows where he is.

For several seconds, I couldn’t understand what they meant. My mother had been dead for nineteen years. Douglas’s mother had been dead for twenty-eight. Whatever secret they had shared belonged to two women who could no longer explain themselves.

“Lucas,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “where are you now?”

“In the hospital.”

“Did you bring the note with you?”

“Yes.”

“Stay there. Don’t show it to anyone else.”

There was a pause.

“Do you think my grandmother meant your mother knew where my father was?”

“I don’t know what she meant.”

“Your mother is dead, right?”