The letter went on, and Harrison held nothing back, least of all about the life he had chosen over us.

I spent forty years living a lie with Eleanor, he wrote. We had three children, Julian, Beatrice, and Richard.

I gave them everything money could buy, every advantage, every luxury, every door opened.

And in return, I raised three hollow, ruthless people who looked at me not as a father, but as a vault waiting to be cracked.

That was my true punishment, Evelyn, though I did not understand it as such until the end: that the children I abandoned you for grew up to love nothing but my money, while the daughter I left behind grew up, I would learn, into a woman of grace I did not deserve to know.

When my health finally failed, and Eleanor passed, I did not choose this facility by accident, the letter continued. I chose it, specifically and deliberately, because I had learned that you were living in its state-funded wing.