The paper was heavy, sealed with a drop of red candle wax that had set into a smooth oval.

Evelyn’s handwriting on the front was small and careful, leaning a little to the right.

My name was written out in dark blue fountain pen ink.

I cracked the wax seal with my thumb.

The paper tore crisply in the quiet park.

I unfolded the single sheet of cream stationery.

“My dearest Robert,” the letter started.

“If you’re reading this by yourself, it means I’ve left you, and Brandon has finally pushed you beyond your patience.”