Huh? Some random girl returned my diary, fine… but she wants to talk to me? That’s, like, next-level
There’s an envelope, thick and covered in colored stamps, waiting on the little bureau next to Bubby’s front door.
And it’s addressed to me.
Yay, a reply letter from India!
I hold the envelope a minute, feeling warmth spread through me. Trust Ima to reply to my mailed letter with one of her own, rather than answer me over the phone. It takes way longer to receive it this way, but oh, it’s so much more fun and exciting. And I can read it over and over. And it’s like a piece of home. A piece of Ima.
I say hi to Bubby, grab a snack bar, and go upstairs for privacy while I read the letter. The envelope is jammed full; besides Ima’s reply, there are letters from my sisters and a folded paper containing Ayelet’s handprints. Ima must’ve done painting just for me. Wow.
I read my sister’s letters, put them aside, and finally reach for Ima’s thick missive. It’s a few pages long, like mine was. I know how busy Ima is, so this is… really special.
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