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With her hands trembling, Eliza Lange looked down at each address that had been written down for her years before, when Olive Graff had given her the very first set of letters. Yes, that’s right. The first set of letters. Over the course of the next six months, there would be more, more, more. More than Eliza knew what to do with.
She’d categorized them and sorted them all, paying close attention to the dates that Olive left for her so she would know exactly when to drop them off and where to leave them, how to get them where they needed to go.
“You’re sure they all still live here?” Cinna Monroe was sitting in the driver’s seat of his Jeep, giving her a few glances as they made their way through the small town streets of Shallow Creek, Georgia.
“Olive used to tell me a thousand times, if you’re old, and you’re here? You don’t leave. This is where they are.”
He sat a little stiffer at the mention of Olive’s name, but he nodded a moment later. “So. Which house is first?”