No clue.
Nothing personal.
At the time, I dismissed it.
Kids receive random birthday mail. Distant relatives remember late. Older people forget to sign cards. Life is messy.
I was a single mother trying to keep bills paid and food in the pantry, so I had no energy to investigate five dollars and a bargain-bin postcard.
Then the same thing happened the following year.
Another plain envelope.
Another simple birthday card.
Another small bill tucked inside.
By the third year, Adrian had turned it into a tradition.
“Check the mailbox,
