Page 153 of Taken Away

Aunt Mabel & Uncle Harold

Aubrey couldn’t remember anyone ever calling themselves her aunt and uncle.

Aubrey stared at it.

They’d picked out a birthday card.

For her.

Her fingers trembled as she turned it over.

Thick black marker slashed across the envelope.

RETURN TO SENDER.

She reached for another.

Christmas.

STOP MAILING HER.

Another.

Graduation balloons.

NOT INTERESTED.

Another.

Valentine’s Day.

Easter.

Birthday.

Graduation.

Every envelope carried Anne’s unmistakable handwriting.

All those years she’d believed nobody had cared enough to send a card.

A memory flashed.

Ten years old. Sitting on the front porch steps. Watching every car that turned onto their street. Certain this year would be different. Certain somebody would come.

Nobody ever had.

A folded letter rested near the bottom of the box.

Different paper. Different envelope.

A copy.

Addressed to Anne.

Aubrey unfolded it.

Anne, I don’t know what else to do. You don’t return my calls and every card I send to Aubrey comes back unopened. If you’re angry with me, then be angry with me. But Aubrey hasn’t done anything wrong. Harold asks about her every birthday. Every Christmas. Every year. At the very least, let her come visit. She deserves to know her family. You don’t have to forgive me. But please stop punishing Aubrey for something that happened between us. Mabel