Home Entertainment Game Technology Advertisement Part 2: For eight years, my parents made me leave the house every time my brother brought his fiance over; Mom said, “She comes from a good family, don’t embarrass us”; Dad added, “Just disappear for the weekend”; I did; then one weekend, I never came back; it took them four years to find out where I went.

We drove to Ruth's farmhouse.

The property looked different without her.

The porch swing hung motionless.

The vegetable garden had grown wild.

The kitchen window was dark.

I remembered arriving there after leaving my parents' house.

I'd been frightened.

Exhausted.

Convinced nobody would ever believe what had happened to me.

Ruth opened her door before I even reached it.

She looked at my suitcase.

Then at my face.

And said, "Well, it's about time you came home."

Now I stood on the same porch holding a photograph of my own memorial.

And wishing desperately that I could ask her what she'd known.

Avery unlocked the door.

Inside, the farmhouse smelled faintly of cedarwood and dried apples.

We walked into Ruth's bedroom.

Avery opened the bottom drawer of her dresser.

Then removed a wooden box.

On the lid, in Ruth's handwriting, were three words.

**FOR MY STACEY.**

My eyes filled.

Inside was a letter.