The rumors slowed after that.
Not all at once, but enough.
The town recalibrated. That happens in small places when one version of a story has been repeated too often and someone finally brings receipts. People did not become saints overnight. They did, however, grow quieter around me in a way that felt less like doubt and more like respect.
Daniel and Melissa, predictably, did not stop.
A week later a thick white envelope arrived in the mail.
No return address I recognized at first, though the paper quality alone suggested someone wanted to perform seriousness.
I made tea before opening it. Earl Grey. Bergamot always steadied me. Robert used to say the whole house smelled like a sensible woman when I brewed it.
Inside was a typed letter.
Not from a law firm, though it wanted to look like one.
From Daniel and Melissa.
The language was formal, almost laughably so.
