“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.”

be here today?”

“The article named the memorial and said you visited every year on his birthday. This is the closest airport, and there’s only one arrivals exit. I didn’t know which flight you’d take, so I came early.”

“And you recognized me?”

“There was a recent picture of you in the retirement interview.”

I looked at the photograph again.

Thomas had kept it all these years.

“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”

“Yes. He asked me to bring you to him.”

I waitedfor more.

Daniel lowered his eyes.

“He’s