The door slowly opened a few inches.
And I stopped walking.
Standing in the doorway was someone I never, in a hundred years, expected to see.
“Ms. Diane?”
I stared at her.
It took several seconds before I recognized the face.
“Sadie?”
Her eyes widened.
Sadie had dated Caleb during his final year of high school.
She had been 17.
Caleb had been 18.
For almost a year, she had been everywhere.
At our dinner table.
On the couch during movie nights.
Sitting beside Caleb on the back steps while they whispered about whatever teenagers believed adults could never understand.
Then they broke up.
Caleb barely talked about it.
A few months later, Sadie disappeared from our lives completely.
Now she stood in front of me.
She was three years older than when I
