For the two weeks after the funeral, I tried to convince myself that Carol had been confused by the medications, or by talking from a half-sleep, when she asked me to look for her. But every night I also listened to the other part: “Forgive me from now.” Forgive her why?
I ended up scouring into old college groups until a former partner passed me the number of Diane, one of the
Anna's best friends in those years. As soon as I gave Anna's name, Diane was left silent.
I have nothing to tell you about that.
And he hung up. A week later, though, he called me back.
Anna’s sister married a Pittsburgh man.
Do you know what his name is?
I remember the married name.
“Tell me.
Three calls later, a woman answered on the other side of the line.
"Hello?"
I closed my eyes. Although four decades had passed, I recognized that voice instantly.
