Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The words written on the back of the photograph seemed to have sucked all the air from the room.
To our daughter.
Camille stared at the handwriting.
Again.
And again.
As if looking long enough would somehow change the words.
It didn't.
They remained there.
Permanent.
Impossible.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the photograph.
"This doesn't make sense."
Her voice sounded distant.
Like she was speaking from somewhere very far away.
Dante remained beside her.
Close enough to reach her.
Close enough to steady her if she needed it.
But he said nothing.
Because honestly
he didn't know what to say either.
Elena crossed her arms.
"Open the letter."
Straight to the point.
As always.
Adrian nodded.
"She's right."
Victor's voice immediately exploded through the phone.
"OPEN THE LETTER."
Nobody bothered muting him this time.
Because for once
everyone agreed.
The envelope sat silently beside the photograph.
Cream-colored.
