THE LETTER
December 2025 There is nothing wrong with her. This is what she knows. Not believes — knows. The way she knows her own handwriting, her threshold for noise, the hour she thinks best. It is not a conclusion she arrived at through affirmation. It is the residue of decades. She did
THE LETTER
January 2026 She built the thing. And then she left the room where people clap. Not in crisis. Not in burnout. She left the way you leave a party that has gone on too long — coat already on, standing near the door, realizing no one will notice if you slip
