Chapter 3 - MICHAEL'S LETTER
Michael Bennett had been dead for eighteen months.
Claire still woke some mornings expecting him beside her.
Pancreatic cancer.
Fast.
Cruel.
He had been forty.
Ethan six.
Before his final hospitalization, Michael wrote letters.
One for Claire.
One for Ethan.
One for his mother.
And one page labeled:
WISHES FOR ETHAN.
Not a will.
Not a custody order.
A father writing because he knew he would not see his son grow up.
The page said:
Keep him kind.
Keep him curious.
Don’t let grief make him afraid of life.
Mom will help keep him grounded when things get hard.
Claire had read that line and cried.
Margaret had read it differently.
Mom will help keep him grounded.
To Claire, it meant:
Ethan still has his grandmother.
To Margaret, it slowly became:
Michael gave me a role.
Then:
Michael trusted my methods.
Then:
May you like
Claire is violating Michael’s wishes when she ignores me.
Grief can turn one sentence into a constitution if nobody challenges the interpretation.
