Mr. Ashby carefully opened the stitching and pulled out a small brass key wrapped in a folded letter. Rowan’s name was written across the front in Dad’s handwriting. The letter explained the red suit first. Dad had bought it decades earlier after Rowan, then ten years old, had pointed to one in a shop window and announced that someday he would wear something “too bright for sad people.” Dad had remembered that sentence his entire life.
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