Chapter 23 - THE LETTER RUBY WASN’T READY TO READRichard Fenwick’s remaining possessions were eventually released to Elena.
Most were worthless.
Old photographs.
Tax documents.
Books.
One sealed envelope was addressed:
FOR MY GRANDCHILD, IF ELENA EVER HAS ONE.
Richard had written it in prison.
Before Ruby was born.
Elena did not want to give it to her immediately.
Damon agreed.
Ruby discovered it anyway.
She was excellent at discovering things adults intended to discuss later.
“Is that for me?”
Elena sighed.
“Yes.”
“Can I read it?”
“When you’re older.”
“How much older?”
“Sixteen.”
Ruby looked horrified.
“That’s basically death.”
Damon tried not to laugh.
They compromised.
Elena would read selected parts aloud.
Richard wrote about mistakes.
Not excuses.
He admitted he had chosen money over integrity.
He admitted allowing Vale to turn small compromises into serious crimes.
Then he wrote:
The worst mistake of my life was believing one bad choice could be hidden by another.
Ruby looked at Elena.
“That sounds like you.”
Elena stared at the letter.
“Unfortunately.”
Damon said, “Runs in the family.”
Elena glared.
Ruby laughed.
Richard continued:
If Elena has a child one day, I hope that child grows up knowing our family name does not decide who they are.
Ruby became quiet.
Her whole childhood had been shaped by adults trying to control the consequences of old choices.
Richard.
Vale.
Arthur.
Elena.
Even Harold.
Damon had his own mistakes.
The difference now was that nobody was pretending.
Ruby asked:
“Was Grandpa bad?”
Elena struggled.
“He did bad things.”
“Was he good?”
“He did some good things too.”
“So which was he?”
Damon answered.
“A person.”
Ruby looked dissatisfied.
“That’s annoying.”
“Most truthful answers are.”
Elena continued reading.
At the end Richard wrote:
If you ever feel ashamed of where you came from, remember that you are allowed to become something none of us managed to be.
Ruby asked:
“What?”
Elena turned the page.
“Free.”
Ruby sat quietly.
Then folded the letter.
“I think I want to read the rest when I’m twelve.”
“Sixteen.”
“Thirteen.”
“Fifteen.”
“Fourteen.”
Elena considered.
“Deal.”
Damon whispered, “Excellent negotiation.”
That night Ruby wrote her own letter.
She sealed it.
On the front:
FOR ME WHEN I’M EIGHTEEN.
Damon asked what she wrote.
“None of your business.”
“Fair.”
She hid it inside her desk.
Years later, she would open it and find the first line:
My name is Ruby Fenwick Voss, and once I thought being lost meant nobody was coming.
May you like
But for now, she was still eight.
And she had homework.
