🥺Justin Bieber admits that he tested positive for…P2

Claire blinked.

“I’ve never seen those.”

Neither had Aaron.

Noah looked at the lawyer.

“I don’t know. Your instructions are to open one each Saturday. In order.”

Noah gave a short laugh.

At a funeral.

I nudged him.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just… that’s him.”

Aaron studied the envelopes for another second before he almost smiled.

“Yeah. It is.”

The following Saturday, Noah opened the first envelope at our kitchen table.

Aaron and Claire had both come over.

Inside was an address and one sentence.

Claire stared at the address.

Then her mouth opened slightly.

“I know this place.”

It was a diner about twenty minutes away.

Claire hadn’t been there in years.

When we arrived, an older woman behind the counter looked at Claire and froze.

Claire frowned.

“Ruth?”

Ruth came around the counter and hugged her.

Claire started crying before she even knew why we were there.

Ruth disappeared into the back and returned with a cardboard box.

“Your father brought this to me six months ago.”

Inside were recipe cards.

Dozens of them.

Margaret’s handwriting covered every card.

Claire picked one up and made a sound like the air had been knocked out of her.

Ruth smiled sadly.

“Your mother’s Christmas recipe.”

Claire pressed the card to her chest.