“My college sweetheart vanished over Vietnam 55 years ago. Every year, I traveled to a memorial carrying one white rose and our old photograph. But last Tuesday, a stranger was waiting at the airport—holding the exact same picture.”

servicemen.

“Then why wasn’t I told?”

Daniel hesitated.

“I don’t know. He told us you lost touch after the war.”

“Lost touch?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Was he still listed as missing?”

“No,” Daniel said. “His return was recorded. He has his military papers. I thought you knew he had come home.”

I stared at Daniel.

“How did you find me?”

“Granddad kept your college picture. He remembered your town. I found a school newsletter with your retirement interview, then an article about your memorialvisits.”

“How did you know I’d