Writing this sometimes feels as if I’m talking to you like old times. But at this moment it’s a painful reminder that it’s nothing like talking to you at all. As the official monster of the family, I hope you will compare me to a real monster like Achilles and give me some points for not being as awful as it is possible to be. I also have to tell you that I’ve learned that when no one else can be trusted—and I mean no one—there is family. And somehow I managed to be complicit in driving away two of the four people I could trust. Clumsy of me, n’est-ce pas? I love you, Valentine. I wish I
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