My Childhood Sweetheart Asked Me to Sign a Special Folder in Room Four Hundred Seven

pen scraped against the paper, leaving a jagged blue line before I could finish my last name. The ink looked too bright, almost like a fresh spill on the thick parchment.

Ben took the pen from my hand, his stroke bold and clear as he signed his own name right below mine. He did not hesitate, his signature sharp and precise, without the tremor you would continue reading …