Chapter 25 - I READ THE LETTER CARYS NEVER FINISHED
Jonathan found one final letter in archived email drafts.
Not a secret twist.
A continuation of the personal letter I had already opened.
Unsaved final paragraph recovered from sent attachment? Better as printed copy found in estate box after renewed search. Keep ordinary.
It read:
Alwyn, if you are reading all this, you will probably be angry at yourself.
Correct.
Then:
Please don’t make that another way of leaving Lowri alone.
I stopped.
Carys knew me too well.
Then:
She needs a father who can learn, not one who spends the rest of her childhood apologizing for the year he didn’t understand.
I cried.
Not because message absolved.
It did not.
Then:
Your mother is not a monster. She is most dangerous when she is certain love gives her the right to decide for everyone.
Exactly.
Then:
Thomasin may not be a bad person either. But if anyone asks Lowri to prove love by forgetting me, that person should not have authority over her.
There.
The rule.
Then:
If circumstances change, use your judgment. Do not turn my fear into another prison.
That mattered most.
Carys did not want to govern Lowri from death.
She wanted me awake.
Then final line:
Let our daughter keep adding pages.
I folded letter.
Sat alone.
Then laughed because Lowri had literally made an album.
Maybe coincidence.
Maybe Carys always loved albums.
Either way.
I stored the letter.
Not in Lowri’s album.
For later.
When older.
Not now.
Then I went downstairs.
Lowri was cutting construction paper.
My chest tightened automatically.
Scissors near photos.
Then I smiled.
“What are you making?”
“New page.”
“For what?”
She held up a blank sheet.
“Later.”
Good.
May you like
Not everything needed content now.
Future memory deserved space too.
