Thelettertrembledinhishandsasheunfoldedthethinpaper,itsedgesslightlyyellowedwithage.Afaintscentoflavenderlingeredonthepages,delicateyetpersistentlikethememoriesitcarried.Hiseyestracedtheunfamiliarhandwriting—eachcurveofthelettersgracefulyeturgent,asthoughthewordshadpouredoutinasinglebreathlessmoment.Theinkhadfadedinplaces,asiftouchedtoooftenbyfingersthatcouldn'tbeartoletgo.Hefelttheweightofyearsinthoselines,alifetimeofunspokenwordsfinallygivenform.Outside,theraintappedsoftlyagainstthewindow,buttheroomseemedtoholditsbreath,waitingforhimtobeginreadingtheconfessionofasoulhecouldn'tremember.
