And if I’d known what was waiting inside that sealed envelope Mr. Holbrook now held in his hands, I might have been even more afraid. The sky dimmed to a bruised gray as Mr. Holbrook unfolded the letter, his hand steady in the chill. The paper, lined with my father’s familiar handwriting, fluttered slightly in the wind. I could almost smell the faint trace of sawdust and moto
Xhbakhi