Chapter 6: The Package

The brown cardboard box was faded and so was its label. But there in the center, clearly written, was “Miss Andrea Walker.” The words “Return to sender” were written boldly next to it and an arrow had been drawn to point towards the return address.

The return address had no name listed above it, but it was an Idaho address—Bill’s address. I looked closely at the postmark. 1995. I was five years old.

I walked towards the nightstand and placed it there and sat on the bed, looking at it.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Luke questioned.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, lost in thought.

“You don’t know?” His voice was perplexed.

“Like I said, I decided to let the buried past stay… buried. Anyway, what’s the point? Say that it’s some token gift that he tried to send me years ago. That doesn’t change a thing. There is no gift under the sun that could make up for deadbeat parenting.”