The envelope rested between them. For a long moment, neither Aria nor Harold reached for it. Somewhere beyond the cracked windows, the city was beginning to quieten, but inside the forgotten building every creak sounded unnaturally loud. Harold looked older than she remembered. Their sudden situation seemed to have taken a few years from the little time he had.
"You've really kept this all this time?" Aria asked quietly.
Harold nodded.
"Every day."
"Why?"
He looked down at the envelope.
"Because I promised your mother."
There it was again, another promise. Aria let out a frustrated laugh. She was exhausted.
"My whole life has become one sentence."
Harold looked at her.
"'I promised your mother.'"
She met his eyes.
"Do you know how many times I've heard that recently?"
He didn
