“Memories.”
“Those letters aren’t memories. They’re current.”
Evelyn’s face changed.
It was a small change, but unmistakable.
She knew.
Daniel saw it too.
“You’ve been talking to her.”
Evelyn walked toward the hidden room and began gathering the envelopes as though she could end the conversation by removing the evidence.
“She wrote first.”
“When?”
“A while ago.”
“How long?”
She did not answer.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Mom, how long?”
“Fourteen months.”
The number settled over us.
Silas counted silently on his fingers.
Daniel stared at his mother.
“You have been in contact with Elena for more than a year?”
“She was getting better.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“She didn’t ask me to make a decision. She asked me to listen.”
“She left him.”
Evelyn’s hands stopped moving.
“She left because she believed she was becoming dangerous to herself, Daniel. She asked you for help.”
