Every instinct told me not to go, but I couldn’t deny him his final request.
Twenty minutes later, I stopped outside an ordinary-looking house.
As I approached the porch, I quietly rehearsed an apology for disturbing strangers so late at night.
But the moment my knuckles touched the door, it swung wide open.
And when I saw the person standing behind it, I screamed.
—
Frank gave her an address with his last breath.
Part 2 ⬇️
The woman in the doorway looked just as shocked as I was.
She was older — maybe seventy — with white hair and Frank’s same dark eyes.
Frank’s eyes.
“You came,” she whispered.
“I wasn’t sure he’d ever tell you.”
My legs nearly gave out.
“Who are you?”
She stepped back to let me in.
On the wall behind her hung a row of framed photographs.
I walked closer.
And stopped breathing.
Every single photo showed Frank — younger, smiling — with this woman.
