Aaron woke before the sun, the room still dark, Sophie's breathing slow and even beside him. He lay still for a moment, orienting himself to the shape of the day ahead, but his mind was already at the archive, already in the boxes, already looking for the letter Elena might have written back.
He slipped out of bed without waking her, pulled on a sweater, and walked barefoot to the kitchen. The lake was grey through the terrace doors, the sky just beginning to lighten at the edges. He made coffee and stood at the counter, the letter from his father propped against the salt shaker where he had left it the night before.
It was only a few lines. He had memorized them by now. But he read it again anyway, the familiar words settling into him the way morning light settled into the room.
*I named him for the hope that he would be the beginning of something, not the end.*
