I sank into Dad’s chair, sobbing so hard that Frank had to hold me upright.
He stayed until I calmed down, then quietly left.
As I put the photographs back, something metallic caught my eye.
A key lay beneath the vest, attached to a small tag with an unfamiliar address.
I grabbed my jacket.
I turned it over, hoping to find an explanation.
Nothing.
I searched the box again, but there was no note.
I grabbed my jacket and car keys.
The address took me to the outskirts of town, past a row of warehouses and an abandoned gas station.
I whispered.
I’d lived in this town my entire life, yet I couldn’t remember ever coming here.
I checked the address on the tag again. It matched.
“What were you doing out here, Dad?” I whispered.
I walked around the building, looking for some indication of what it was used for. There was no business sign, no cars, and nothing visible through the windows.
