One was for Mallory and one was for her. Mallory watched her sister over the rim of her coffee cup. She reached out to touch the beige envelope. “Do you think it’s a letter bomb? It could be, you know. You open yours first.” “No, I don’t think it’s a letter bomb. You open yours first,” Abby countered as she moved Mallory’s letter closer to her coffee cup. “Let’s compromise,” Mallory suggested. “You shuffle them around. I’ll close my eyes and pick one. Whichever one I pick gets opened first. This is really silly, you know. It’s probably nothing at all.” “Maybe,” Abby said, holding the letters up to the light. “But it could just as easily be something.” She set the letters down on the table. “Okay, close your eyes.” She flipped the envelopes over, address side down, and switched them back and forth a few times like a sideshow shell man until she didn’t know which was which. “Go for it,” she said, holding her breath. Mallory studied the envelopes.
