The envelope was still in the drawer.
Ethan.
My name looked like a memory in Sophie’s handwriting.
I sat on the edge of her bed and opened it carefully.
The letter was four pages long.
At first, the words blurred because myhands were shaking.
Then I forced myself to read.
Ethan,
I don’t know how to say this out loud, so I’m writing it down.
The doctors found something after the miscarriage. I am trying not to panic before I know everything, but I’m scared. I’m scared in a way I don’t know how to carry.
I wanted to tell you last night. I watched you come home so tired, and I lost my courage. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I can feel how far away we are from each other. I don’t know how to ask you to come closer when you already look like you’re trying not to run.
