Hale’s office was small and orderly.
Two chairs had been placed in front of his desk.
He stood when we entered, shook both our hands, and waited until we were seated before he sat down himself.
On the desk between us was an envelope.
Cream-colored.
Sealed.
Thomas’s handwriting on the front.
*For Daniel.
To be opened with Eleanor present.*
Mr.
Hale folded his hands.
“Thomas gave me very specific instructions about this letter.
He asked that I be present, that both of you be present, and that it be read aloud.” He looked at Daniel.
“He wanted Eleanor to hear it at the same time as you.
Not before.
Not after.”
Daniel looked at the envelope.
“Why?”
“He said — and I’m quoting him directly — ‘Because Daniel will have questions, and Eleanor will have the answers, and they should be in the same room when that happens.'”
Daniel reached forward and picked up the envelope.
He broke the seal carefully.
His hands were steady.
He unfolded two pages of Thomas’s handwriting and looked at them for a moment without reading.
Then he began.
*”Daniel.
If you’re reading this, then you’ve met Eleanor, and knowing you, you’ve already decided you have questions.
Good.
You should.
Here are the answers.”*
Daniel’s voice was level.
Controlled.
*”Eleanor and I loved each other when we were seventeen.
She left for college.
I stayed.
I told her she’d broken my heart, and I meant it.
But I was wrong to say it the way I did.
She had every right to go.
I was too young to understand that then.”*
Daniel paused.
He glanced at me briefly, then continued.
*”I bought the house on Maple Street the year after she left.
Not because I was certain she’d come back.
Because I needed something to believe in.
The house was that thing.
