But I did not yet believe it.

I unfolded the thick parchment, my eyes already swimming, and I began to read.

Chapter 9 — Your Mother’s Name Was Clara

My dearest Evelyn, the letter began, in the handwriting I had watched move a hundred chess pieces across a board.

If you are reading this, my heart has finally given out, and I am no longer there to shield you from the storm my selfishness created.

I know you are looking at the photograph right now.