Page 63 of Returned Mail

“I'm fine.”

“I didn't ask that.”

I look back at the papers between us. He waits. I hate when he does that. “What?”

His eyes drop briefly to my pocket. The corner of the envelope is barely visible. “Nothing, Sergeant.”

I pull the envelope out and set it on the table. Mack looks at it, then at me. “Is that from Monica?”

“No.”

That gets his attention. “Then who?”

“Don't know.”

He reads the return address upside down, and his face changes a little. “Okay, so are you opening it?”

“Everybody keeps asking me that.”

“Probably because carrying unopened mail around like an explosive device is weird. Even for you.”

I slide it back into my pocket. “I'll deal with it…later”

Mack watches me for another second, then straightens. “You do you.”

By the time I finally get a few minutes alone, the envelope has gone soft at the corners from being in my pocket all day.

I sit on the edge of my bunk.

The tent is quieter than usual. Not completely silent, there’s always someone snoring two rows over, or a generator rattling outside, or boots hitting packed ground somewhere behind us. But tonight, it’s quiet enough for me to sit still for a while.

I turn the envelope over.

Mia Matthews

I slide my thumb under the flap. There are two letters inside. One is folded, in handwriting I don't recognize. Another in handwriting I do. My whole body goes completely still. Monica.

I almost reach for hers first, but instead I unfold the other page.

George,

You don't know me. My name is Mia, and I'm currently living in the loft apartment you shared with Monica.

I stop and read it again.

Currently living in the loft.

I found several letters from you after I moved in.

At first, I set them aside because they weren't mine. I contacted Monica and asked what she wanted me to do with them. She told me they could be discarded.

My jaw locks. Discarded, huh? So everything I’ve been writing to her she wants to be just… discarded.

Over twenty-four letters reduced to trash. Nice, Monica, nice.

I keep reading.

I am sorry to tell you that I didn't discard them. I kept them. And yesterday, I opened them.