royalty had contacted us.
“Oh, this is serious now,” he said, staring at the bill. “My secret person is moving up in the world.”
I laughed, but by then, the mystery had started bothering me too.
I checked postmarks.
Studied the handwriting.
Held envelopes against the light like someone in a cheap detective show.
I asked my mother.
My sister.
I even called an old friend and joked, “If you’re the weirdo mailing my kid birthday money, just tell me so I can stop wondering.”
Nobody knew anything.
Or nobody
