Summer brought a letter that had been waiting in Cassidy's study, sealed with instructions to be delivered to Aria six months after her death. Nessa brought it personally, her expression telling Aria this was significant.
"Your mother left this with me," Nessa said. "With very specific timing instructions. She wanted you to have time to grieve before reading it."
Aria took the letter with trembling hands. Cassidy's familiar handwriting on the envelope. One last communication from the mother she missed every day. She waited until she was alone in the garden before opening it.
My dearest Aria,
If you are reading this, I have been gone for six months. Long enough, I hope, for the sharpest edge of grief to have dulled. Long enough for you to begin finding your rhythm again.
I am writing this as my strength fades, wanting to share things I may not have opportunity to say directly. Final wisdom from a mother who loves you more than words can express.
