Chapter 21 - EIRA READS THE FILE
At eighteen, Eira asked for everything.
Police report.
Court records.
Estate inventory.
Ainsley’s letters.
My assault citation.
All of it.
I hesitated.
Then remembered every adult who had once decided what she needed to know.
We did it carefully.
Naomi joined.
Not because Eira was fragile.
Because legal records need context.
She read the photograph description.
Her cheek.
The keepsake box.
The sale forms.
My copied signature.
The wedding bills.
Then my assault report.
“You hit her really hard.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Rage.”
“Were you protecting me?”
“I had already pulled you away.”
She looked at me.
“Then you were wrong.”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
She continued reading.
Ainsley’s messages.
Every reminder of her mother disappears.
Eira stopped.
“I remember that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I let too much disappear before that night.”
She looked toward me.
“You were grieving.”
“Yes.”
“Still wrong?”
“Sometimes explanation and responsibility coexist.”
She smiled slightly.
“You sound like Naomi.”
Occupational hazard.
Then she read Ainsley’s later letter.
Eira did nothing wrong.
She cried.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Then:
“Can I write her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think I should?”
“My opinion is less important than yours.”
May you like
“Annoying answer.”
Correct.
