I didn’t say anything, and neither did she. But there was a sense — subtle, unspoken — that something about this moment was meaningful to her. I rested my palm on my belly, feeling the baby shift, and wondered what her story might be.
When the bus slowed to her stop, she stood slowly, gathering her things with care. Before stepping off, she leaned slightly toward me and slipped something into the pocket of my coat. She didn’t explain. She simply whispered, “Take care of yourself, dear,” and stepped out into the evening air.
A Locket and a Message From the Past
