A Simple Seven Egg Painting on a Plate Changed My Family Forever

tracing the dark blue ink on the flyleaf.

“To Clara, who knows how things grow,” she read aloud, her voice dropping at the end of the sentence.

“He was proud of your research,” I said.

She tucked her hair behind her left ear, her eyes remaining on the handwritten words for a long moment before she set the book on the floor.

“I felt so guilty for asking continue reading …