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

pulled into the gravel driveway at exactly two o’clock, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Mr. Miller, a retired high school teacher with silver hair and a clipboard, stepped out of the driver’s seat.

“Alison?” he asked, adjusting his glasses as he walked toward the porch.

“Yes,” I said, standing up to meet him. “Thank you for driving over.”