A Tin of Old Photographs Revealed Why a Best Friend Kept Helping

to be done.”

He picked up the silver platter of pastries and carried them toward the dining table in the next room.

“Bring your milk, Mia,” Harold called out.

We sat at the long oak table, the quiet of the large house pressing in around us. Harold spoke softly, his eyes moving between Mia and me as he set a small raspberry tart on my plate.