Button now lived inside a glass cabinet beside my bed because I was terrified his fur would disappear if I held him too much.
Then I removed an envelope from my coat.
Miriam had delivered it the previous afternoon.
She had found it while transferring old trust archives.
The handwriting on the front belonged to my father.
For Claire — when you finally understand why I changed the trust.
My father had written it shortly before his death.
I opened it beside Chloe’s grave.
Claire,
If you are reading this, then something I hoped never to happen probably has.
I have watched Arthur for years.
He is talented.
He is ambitious.
He may even love you in the way men like Arthur understand love.
But I have seen something in him that frightens me.
He mistakes access for ownership.
He mistakes loyalty for weakness.
And most dangerously, he believes consequences are things that happen to other people.
