You say she reads constantly. Bennett does too.
I wonder whether they would like each other.
I know you believe distance is kindness.
I am beginning to wonder whether distance is only distance.
—Thomas
I read that letter twice.
Then the third.
It had been written shortly before Clara’s first meeting with him.
Miriam,
Thank you.
I will not ask for more than the afternoon.
I have told Eleanor.
She knows everything.
There is one more person who deserves the truth.
Bennett.
I have not told him yet.
But I will.
He should know he has a sister.
My hands stopped moving.
I read the final sentence again.
A sister.
Not an inconvenience.
Not a mistake.
Not an obligation.
A sister.
There was a knock.
Clara stood in the doorway.
“I thought you might have questions.”
I looked at her.
For once, I had none.
Instead I asked, “Do you remember him?”
