Chapter Fifteen
When I first get the email I blink twice because I think I need to have my glasses adjusted. But there it is: the letters spelling out ‘Troy Dunn’ the way they’ve always done, just not in my mailbox. My heart in my throat, I click it open.
Hi Leigh,
I hope you don’t mind me emailing you out of the blue—and after all these years. I’m an undergrad at Berkeley now, and the idea is to go to Law School after. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up sometime? Professor Steiger (who teaches Criminal Justice) speaks so highly of you.
I understand if you don’t feel up to it, but I’d really like to catch up and pick your brain.
Best,
Troy
P.S. This has nothing to do with Mom. She doesn’t know I’m contacting you.
I keep staring at the last sentence. How old is he now? I count
