At 82, I Found

a small envelope.

“She gave me this twenty years ago,” Ruth said. “Told me to keep it unless you ever woke up. I didn’t think you would.”

Frank stared at the envelope.

His name was written on it in Margaret’s hand.

He took it carefully.

“What is it?”

Ruth’s mouth softened. “A recipe.”

Frank opened it.

Inside was a yellowed index card.

Apple Pie — Frank’s Favorite

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