Dear Rosie - Page 220

And then, one by one, we burn them all.

The small bursts of light as each one catches cleanse the past.

Until only the envelope is left.

The envelope that contains the letter Nathan left me in the woods.

The envelope with the wrong address on the front and the letter I tried to send him.

The pair of letters that started it all.

Nathan picks it up, then sets the box on the table.

He holds it out. “I don’t think we should burn this one.”

I take it from him, nostalgia shimmering around us.

“I—” I turn the envelope over in my hand and…

And it’s different.

The address is different.

There’s no UNDELIVERABLEacross the front.

I open it.

The two letters are there.

But there’s also another smaller envelope.

I pull it out.

It’s addressed to me. At my address onthatstreet.

My fingers trace over the return address, handwritten in the corner.

Nathan’s corrected Ohio address.

My eyes meet his.

Nathan dips his head to the envelope in my hand. “It’s twenty-five years late. But it’s yours.”

With shaking hands, I tear open the envelope. And I pull out the letter.

It’s the reply to the first letter I ever wrote him.

As though it was delivered.

As though he got it.

Dear Rosie,

I’m so glad you wrote to me.

I miss you too. And if you’d asked, I would have hugged you.

I would do anything for you.