Chapter 7 - The Final Letter
It was a sealed white envelope.
Philip’s name was written across the front in Ada’s careful, looping handwriting.
Nathan didn't open this one. He handed it directly to Philip.
Philip stared at it for a long time. His hands were trembling as he broke the seal and pulled out the single sheet of stationary inside.
He began to read.
I couldn't see the words, but I watched his face.
I watched the anger melt away. I watched the defensive walls crumble. I watched the arrogant, entitled businessman shrink back into a little boy who had profoundly disappointed his mother.
After reading the first few lines, Philip’s legs seemed to give out.
He slowly sat down in one of my wicker porch chairs, burying his face in his hand.
Nathan looked at him with a mixture of pity and professional detachment.
"What does it say, Philip?" Nathan asked quietly.
Philip didn't answer right away. He took a shaky breath, staring at the paper as a single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek.
"My dearest Philip," he read aloud, his voice breaking. "If you are reading this, it means you have brought a lawyer to Helen’s door. It means you chose money over grace. It means you chose anger over reflection."
He stopped, struggling to swallow.
"I forgave you for the money you took," he continued reading. "I never reported it to the police because you are my son, and I love you. But I could not leave my home to a man who saw me only as an asset to be liquidated."
Philip dropped the letter onto his lap. He couldn't read the rest.
I walked over and picked it up.
May you like
I finished reading it out loud for him.
"I have left the house and the remainder of my estate to the local Women's Shelter. Helen does not get a dime, because she never wanted one. She just wanted a neighbor. I hope, Philip, that someday you find someone who cares for you when there is nothing in it for them. Goodbye, my son."
