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

slow drawl.

“I had some errands to run,” I said, setting my purse on the small table by the window.

“Did you go to the bank?” he asked, his eyes tracking my movements.

“I did,” I said.

He leaned forward, his eyes bright and alert, the pale act slipping for a brief second before he remembered to slump back against his pillows.

“And?” he asked.

“I have everything continue reading …