Chapter 17
Beau fingered the letter from Lee. Thinner than the usual missives, the address on the envelope was written in Lee’s plain handwriting, messy but mostly legible. Beau reflected that postal workers must have a wonderful handle on bad handwriting, even more so than pharmacists did, who could at least call a doctor’s office and ask for clarification before filling a prescription medication with prednisone instead of Prozac. It’s not like the post office could call a sender and ask, “Did you mean this to go to Virginia or Vermont?”
Beau sighed. There were no harsh lines, no angry penmanship visible. On the outside.
The letter had jumped out at him like a snake; accidentally stuffed inside the course catalog for the next year, he hadn’t noticed it when he’d gone through his mail—a
