Chapter 16
Reed wrote Nell a letter a year later.
Sent through June.
Not me.
Good.
June read it first.
Then asked me.
I said:
“Your decision.”
She waited another six months.
Then read it to Nell.
Simple language.
I was cruel to you.
I was angry at your father.
I used that anger against you.
You did nothing wrong.
Good.
No demand for forgiveness.
No claim that he loved her.
No excuse.
Nell listened.
Then asked:
“Can I color on it?”
June laughed.
“Yes.”
She drew a horse over half the apology.
Perfect.
Reed had begun working at a small transport company outside Vale territory.
No title.
No inheritance.
No audience.
I heard he was competent.
Good.
I did not invite him back.
Competence is not trust.
Maybe someday.
Maybe not.
Arthur? Wrong again. Too many stories in my head.
My father had been dead for years.
That mattered too.
No elder remained to force reconciliation for family image.
I could let relationships remain incomplete.
That was healthier.
One evening Nell visited and found the red key in my desk.
I had kept it.
Not as shrine.
Because I forgot to move it.
“What key?”
“Your dad hid it.”
She stared.
Then:
“Mine?”
Interesting.
I thought.
“Yes.”
It had been hidden in her coat.
Daniel intended it to reach me.
But it passed through her.
I gave it to June for safekeeping.
Nell held it first.
Tiny red key.
Object that opened the box proving her father told the truth.
She looked at it for two seconds.
Then handed it to June.
“Don’t lose.”
No ceremony.
May you like
Good.
Truth does not need constant worship after it has done its job.
