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Around midmorning, I walked across the street with Keller’s envelope. The sun was shining brightly, which made the foreboding in my chest even worse. Keller opened the door before I knocked.

Less than an hour later, sirens cut through the street.

“This is from my grandmother,” I said, holding it out. “She asked me to deliver it.” Keller’s gaze dropped to the handwriting, and something sharp crossed her face. “That’s… unexpected,” she said, and took it with two fingers.

The door shut without another word. I stood there, embarrassed by how much my hands shook. Back home, I decided I’d deliver the other four after lunch and be done.