PART 7 — THE MAN AT MARGARET’S DOOR Nobody moved. The voice came through the door again. “Dolores?” There are voices you recognize before your mind has time to attach a face to them. This was one of those voices. Older now. Rougher. But unmistakable. Daniel looked at me. His lips parted. “Uncle Raymond?” I couldn’t answer. Raymond Fenn. Harold’s younger brother… – N-T-N-E-W-S-9-9-9

PART 7 — THE MAN AT MARGARET’S DOOR Nobody moved. The voice came through the door again. “Dolores?” There are voices you recognize before your mind has time to attach a face to them. This was one of those voices. Older now. Rougher. But unmistakable. Daniel looked at me. His lips parted. “Uncle Raymond?” I couldn’t answer. Raymond Fenn. Harold’s younger brother…

The man who had stood beside my husband at our wedding. The man who had held Daniel when he was baptized. The man who had helped carry Harold’s coffin. The … Continue reading PART 7 — THE MAN AT MARGARET’S DOOR Nobody moved. The voice came through the door again. “Dolores?” There are voices you recognize before your mind has time to attach a face to them. This was one of those voices. Older now. Rougher. But unmistakable. Daniel looked at me. His lips parted. “Uncle Raymond?” I couldn’t answer. Raymond Fenn. Harold’s younger brother…