The household packet arrived while I was trying to put butter on bread with my left hand.
By the time I signed for it, the butter had softened enough to fall off the knife. Ren caught the dish before I knocked that over as well.
"You could ask," he said.
"I was doing well."
He looked at the table.
"Until the packet."
"Of course."
He left the butter within easy reach and went to return the breakfast tray. I cleared a dry space for the delivery.
The outer wrapping bore the household dispatch mark. Inside were the records I had requested, a narrow account extract, and a letter folded separately from both. No old core readings. Those had been requested through a different office and would come later.
I opened the letter first.
That was a mistake. It gave me the house's answer before I had read the question.
