I adopted a five-year-old girl I found wrapped in my late daughter’s jacket – years later, she handed me a note and said, “Your daughter asked me to give this to you today.”

the jacket over. She pointed to the inside pocket where the lining had begun to split.

“I noticed this last month. I thought it was just bunched fabric. Last night I looked again.”

She slipped her fingers into the torn pocket lining and pulled out a folded paper, yellowed and soft at the edges.

My knees nearly gave out.

She handed it to me.

“You need to continue reading …