**
My name echoed from behind me.
“Clover?”
I turned.
An older man stood there — perhaps in his late 60s. His face was deeply creased, and he wore a tie that was a bit too tight, as if someone else had tied it for him. He held his cup with both hands, like it might slip.
My name echoed from behind me.
“I’m sorry…” I said, hesitant. “Did you know my dad from work?”
He nodded once.
“I’ve known him for years, honey. I’m Frank.”
I searched his face, but nothing clicked.
“I don’t think we’ve met.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” he said, his voice low and rough.
“I’ve known him for years, honey.”
That made me pause.
“What do you mean?”
He moved closer, and I caught a whiff of engine grease and peppermint. He scanned the room quickly before leaning in.
“If you want to know what really happened to your mom,” he said, “check the bottom drawer in your stepdad’s garage.”
“I… what?”
“If you want to know what really happened…”
“I made him a promise,” he continued. “This was part of it.”
“Who are you?” I asked, my heart racing.
He didn’t answer. He just stepped back, his face unreadable.
“I’m sorry, kid,” he said, handing me his business card. “I wish your parents were here for you.”
And then he disappeared, blending into the crowd as if he had never been there.
“Who are you?”
I stood there, frozen, his words ringing louder than the organ music from the living room.
Check the bottom drawer.
I waited until the house emptied that night before I went back. I didn’t turn on the lights when I stepped through the front door. The darkness felt gentler somehow…
The garage door creaked open. The air inside was still, thick with oil and cedar from the workbench Michael had built years ago. My footsteps echoed off the concrete as I walked toward it, every step heavier than the last.
I waited until the house emptied that night.
The bottom drawer was deeper than the others, built differently. It stuck at first, then yielded with a soft groan.
Inside, there was a sealed envelope with my name written in Michael’s familiar blocky handwriting.
Beneath that was a manila folder with legal documents, letters, and a single journal page.
I sat on the cold floor and opened the envelope.
Inside was a sealed envelope…
