Chapter 14: The Last Attempt
In early summer Patricia made one final, indirect approach.
A letter arrived, addressed to Daniel in her handwriting. He opened it at the counter while Mia was at school. The letter was long, alternating between apology and justification. She wrote that she had not realized how long she had left Mia waiting, that time had gotten away from her, that she had never meant any harm. She asked for a chance to explain in person and to “begin repairing what was broken.”
Daniel read it twice, then handed it to me without comment.
I read it once.
The letter contained sorrow for the consequences she was experiencing, but very little reckoning with the five hours themselves. There was no clear acceptance of the fear Mia had carried, or of the way she had obeyed an instruction so completely that she would not move even when her parents appeared.
Daniel waited until I set the letter down.
“I’m not answering it,” he said.
“I think that’s right.”
He placed the letter in the folder where we kept the police report, the attorney correspondence, and the original photo of Mia by the pillar. Then he closed the folder and put it back on the high shelf in the closet.
May you like
No reply was sent.
Patricia did not write again.
