I PAID FOR A STRANGER’S GROCERIES TWO YEARS AGO—AND TODAY, I GOT THIS IN THE MAIL
It came without a return address—just my name, written in delicate cursive on a plain envelope. The handwriting didn’t ring a bell. Inside: a folded note and a twenty-dollar bill, taped down with a single strip of clear tape. The letter began: “Miss Emily, You may not remember us…” And truthfully? I didn’t. Not right
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