“Even later?”
“Some people stop being part of your daily life without becoming unimportant.”
Owen thought about this.
“So you could love him and still be happy without him.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s complicated.”
“Most true things are.”
Owen handed the letter back.
The mystery was over.
At least we believed it was.
Then Mrs. Parker flipped the photograph.
There was writing on the back.
She frowned.
“I’ve never noticed this.”
Owen leaned closer.
The ink had faded.
Thomas’s handwriting.
Three words.
Ask Daniel why.
Mrs. Parker stared.
Daniel?
His son?
Owen looked at her.
“Why what?”
Mrs. Parker shook her head.
“I have no idea.”
The winter concert was forty-eight hours away.
And apparently Thomas Mercer had left th
Daniel arrived early on the night of the winter concert.
Mrs. Parker was waiting for him in the auditorium.
She held the photograph.
“Your father left us another puzzle.”
Daniel examined the back.
