The Reunion Letter . A retired man receives a letter from his first love inviting him to meet.

The lobby was dim and smelled faintly of dust and old potpourri. He approached the desk, his voice rough. “I’m looking for a woman,” he began, then stopped, realizing he couldn’t bring himself to speak her name aloud. “She might have been staying here a few years ago. Maybe reserved a room, Room 302.” The elderly woman behind the counter peered at him over her spectacles, her expression unchanging. “Room 302?” she repeated, her tone flat. “That room’s been converted to storage since the renovations three years ago.” She then gave him a long, assessing look. “You wouldn’t be the recipient of a late letter, would you?”

The question felt like a physical blow. The air rushed out of him, and he leaned heavily on the counter. “The letter was postmarked three years ago,” he managed.

The woman sighed, reaching beneath the desk. “A relative of hers came by two years ago, after the fact. The letter was returned to her estate—address unknown. They sent it back to the post office for one last try. We only kept it because the sender’s note asked us to hold something if a gentleman ever inquired.” She pushed a small, sealed box across the counter. It was made of polished mahogany, no bigger than a cigar box, and completely unadorned.

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