He hesitated, gripping the letter and frowning at it, not quite willing to read it.

"... Thank you," he murmured, pressing it to his chest without opening it. He knew there couldn't be a lot in it - it was hardly going to be a will. None of them had expected her to actually die. But it still felt like she was stretching her hand out from death.

"Does it feel strange, to find things you wrote? Can you remember writing them?"