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Chapter 15 - THE LETTER LAURA WROTE TO MICHAEL

After the trial, Michael opened the letter Laura had written to him.

He waited until Ava was asleep.

Ruth sat across from him.

Laura’s handwriting remained steady for the first page.

Michael,

You are loyal.

That is one reason I loved you.

It is also the easiest way for someone to control you.

You forgive people who have not changed because you believe history should matter.

David uses that.

Your father used it too.

If Rachel appears after I am gone, understand that she does not want you.

She wants access.

I tried to tell you while I was sick.

You looked so tired that I began protecting you from the truth.

That was my mistake.

Love should not require silence.

If Ava tells you she is afraid, believe her before you ask whether the adult has a reasonable explanation.

Children rarely have the language adults demand before offering protection.

Laura’s handwriting became weaker.

Do not turn my memory into a room no one can enter.

Love again if you can.

But do not confuse a person’s interest in your grief with love for the life we built.

Michael lowered the letter.

Ruth wiped her eyes.

“She knew you might marry again.”

“She wanted me to.”

“She wanted you to live.”

“I married the one person she feared.”

“Yes.”

Michael expected Ruth’s answer to hurt.

It did.

He accepted it.

He had not caused Rachel’s crimes.

He had ignored enough warning signs to make the crimes easier.

Both truths could exist at once.

Ava entered the room wearing pajamas.

She held the pink sweater she had worn inside the pantry.

“I don’t want this anymore.”

Michael took it.

“What should we do with it?”

“Burn it.”

Ruth shook her head.

“No.”

“Not because it is important.”

“Because burning things can make them feel powerful.”

Ava thought for a moment.

“Then donate it?”

Michael examined the dirty fabric.

It could not be given to another child.

Ava decided to cut it into strips.

She and Ruth used the clean pieces to repair Baxter’s old blanket.

May you like

The sweater stopped belonging to the pantry.

It became part of something warm.

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