POV: Millie
Han wasn't around again tonight.
I told myself we weren't together, but that wasn't completely true. He didn't have to tell me where he was - we hadn't made any promises. Still, I felt empty without him here, and I didn't want to think about why. I had other things to do anyway: eat my sandwich and Coke, and read through someone else's old journals. I went back upstairs barefoot, the old floors cool under my feet, and got comfortable.
The first ledger had a date from the mid-1800s. The handwriting was messy and smudged. I could tell right away that whoever wrote in this book was left-handed, just like me. The ink smeared across the left side of every line. I sat there for a minute, running my thumb along the yellowed pages. Some ancestor I'd never met and I had this one smal
