Every year, on the same date, he wrote the same line.
“Still looking for Nora.”
I confirmed that through the notebook.
My throat tightened.
He stayed consistent.
“But how did you find me?” I asked.
“Two years ago, you posted on a community board.”
My heart skipped.
The fundraiser.
“I sadly didn’t get much from it. Just a couple of dollars.”
Carter nodded. “But Arthur saw it. He recognized your name and your daughters from the photo you shared. He wanted to reach out, but his health was already failing.”
Everything in me stilled.
“How did you find me?”
“So he did what he could,” the lawyer continued. “He made a will.”
Carter nodded toward the box.
“Take another look inside.”
I looked down at it again. My hands shook.
A cashier’s check.
I stared at it, not fully understanding what I was looking at.
Then my eyes locked onto the number.
$62,000.
My breath caught.
“Take another look inside.”
I looked up at Carter, thinking there had to be some mistake.
“This… this isn’t—”
“It is,” he said gently. “Every dollar he saved.”
