She had been so much braver than I knew, and she’d carried it all alone to protect me from worrying.
But that letter wasn’t the last of Gwen’s surprises.
The next morning, my phone rang just after seven.
“Is this Gwen’s grandmother?” A woman’s voice.
That letter wasn’t the last of Gwen’s surprises.
“I made her dress.” A pause. “It’s been bugging me ever since I heard she died. I want you to know that she came to my shop a few days before. She gave me a note and asked me to sew it into the lining of the gown.”
I was quiet for a moment.
“She told me she wanted the note hidden somewhere only you would find it,” the woman added. “She said her grandmother would understand.”
“I did. I found it, but thank you for letting me know.”
When the call ended, I looked at the dress hanging over the chair. Gwen always believed I would understand.
