He found the same park.
The same path.
And somehow, even the same old bench was still there.
Joseph sat there for nearly an hour remembering the four teenagers who once believed forty years sounded like forever.
Then he wrote the letter.
At the bottom, Joseph had added one final request.
Look behind you.
All three men turned.
Across the walkway stood a woman in her early thirties holding a small wooden box.
She slowly approached them.