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I flick over the paper to the first blank page and roll my lips as I contemplate what exactly I should say. My mum took months to get into the swing of speaking from her mind without thought, somehow always saying exactly what she needed to by the end of it.
I want to try.
Mum,
It never used to be hard to say your name out loud. Then I was given your diaries at age twelve and fell in love with your life. The life you had with Dad—before us, the life you had with Mason—after. Your name got a little harder to say out loud after that.
I’ve spoken to you for years out in your garden, not truly knowing who you are, and it’s only now that I have all of your letters that I feel like I might have lost something I probably desperately needed in life.
Mum, I started this letter with your name because I need you now.
Mason has a child. Ellis (named after you) was born in October, and although he’s the light in all of our lives, nothing has been okay for a long time.
Nina and Mason aren’t together. They co-parent Ellis with the help of all of us and haven’t spoken to one another since the days following the birth.
Mason messed up so badly.
I believe him when he says he never did anything wrong—that the pictures Nina received of him with the woman were staged, but the situation, the way he gave up on her so easily when she told him to go, it makes my blood boil to this day.
He’s as stubborn as Dad ever was.
I started my degree this year, and it’s been really hard. I try to keep my head above water, but if I let myself be alone with my books for too long, I tend to feel myself sinking. My friends would never allow that to happen, though. The girls have been my lifelines after Ellis. They call me almost every day, and Nina brings Ellis out to the estate to stay at least once a month. Mason still hasn’t been out here since Dad died, but I’ve given up on trying anymore.
Freya is and always will be a rock grounding me to earth. You were right about that. She’s held my hand through the last year, making sure I’m eating and sleeping and not missing classes.
The estate is thriving, but you know that. Dad always said the grass got a little greener when you left us. I feel you both around me here. It’s weird when I write that thought down, but the comfort I feel isn’t something that’s meant for words.
There’s someone else that I’d love to tell you about. To rid him from my head once and for all. I’ve never told anyone about him. He tends to play on my mind a lot when I stop and allow myself to think too hard.
It’s been nearly a whole year since I’ve seen Lance Sullivan.
I think I fell in love with him a little bit last summer. Not full-blown love, but it wasn’t nothing, at least not for me. I don’t know what it was for him, but I can’t seem to forget him.
The only thing is, one day, he was telling me he’d be here when I needed him, and the next, he was gone.
I think I was mad at him for a while, but now I just feel sad.
Charlie says he’s fine.
That he’s just busy.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s telling me the truth. I guess I cared about the man more than I ever realised.
And I pushed him away.
Anyway, I read your letters today because I felt a little lost and I decided that I was going to start writing in this thing. To fill it the rest of the way.
Although things aren’t okay right now, I think they will be. You’ve shown me they can be.
Soon,
Scarlet.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Lance
Two weeks later
