Ch. 10: The Letter

The morning came in grey and quiet, the way it always did before everything changed.

She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way she was watching without seeming to.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more.

"You shouldn't have come," she said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. "You shouldn't have come," she said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. Money could buy a great many things, she had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." "You shouldn't have come," she said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." Money could buy a great many things, she had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most. Sophia crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way she was watching without seeming to.

Outside, the world went on as if nothing had shifted. Inside, everything had.

She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. Money could buy a great many things, she had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.

The door closed softly, but the sound of it stayed with her for a long time.