For the first four months, he wouldn’t open any of them.

I didn’t pressure him.

In February, he came into the kitchen holding one and said, “Can you read this one to me?

I want to know if it’s mean first.”

It wasn’t mean.

It said she was sorry, that none of it was his fault, and that she wasn’t asking him to feel anything he didn’t really feel.

He listened to every word.

Then he said, “Okay,” and went back to his bedroom.