Dear friend,
if I can still call you that. I have known for a long time about a disease that will eventually overcome me. When you read this letter, I will probably lose to disease. You are the only person I could ask for such a big favor. Although it was difficult for me to gather the strength to finally say it laud. I had that day in my head, seven years ago, when we last saw each other and we parted in a rather unpleasant way. I have never blamed you for what happened, but I couldn't be the first to come out with open arms. I'm sorry for being a cruel friend.
I know that you have achieved everything you dreamed of. Nevertheless, I followed all the mentions of you. I am sincerely happy for you and I wish we could see you again.
My little Lucretia turned eight yesterday. She is such a sweet little girl, please take care of her when I'm gone. Lucia's family would never accept her and get rid of her at the earliest opportunity. Please, you are the last option I have left. You don't need to be afraid of her, you just need to help her control her abilities. I know it's a lot, but please ... If you have to, replace me with yourself, let her even call you dad, I'll accept it from beyond the grave. Just let her be safe and happy. I don't want to leave her. I don't want it that much, but I will die soon. Nothing can be done ... Please accept her. I beg you…
I'm sorry and thank you for everything
Your, I hope so, friend L.
I knew from the beginning who wrote this letter. I recognized his handwriting, which I had known since high school. From the very beginning, I had a feeling that it would not be good news, but I did not expect that I would suddenly find out about my friend's death. I collapsed into an armchair in my office and started crying, trying to pour out all my anger and regret for the years when I also could reach out to reconciliation. We saw each other off seven years ago in bad faith because of me, so why did this fool apologize to me. I should have supported him when he was left alone with the baby after Lucia died. Then I ran away like a complete coward because I looked into the eyes of an innocent child who was just born with this ability.
I started to reproach myself that if I hadn't been so proud, maybe I would have noticed something sooner and talked him into treatment, financially or somehow were with him. I couldn't imagine what he might be feeling then. An overwhelming feeling of responsibility towards his daughter, loneliness, lack of support mainly from family and friends. I clenched my fists helplessly, not knowing how to deal with the loss. Suddenly I heard a knock and my wife came silently into the room, her expression not very pleased.
"Victor came running just now that he heard you cry and he was scared that something had happened," she said coolly, but her voice became softer when she noticed that our younger son was not lying. "What is going on?"
I nodded my head at the documents I had received with my friend's letter. Martha scanned them, trying to hide that she didn't quite like what she was seeing. There was a kind of indulgence in her gaze over my reaction. She had never had any particular affection for Leonardo or his wife. She found their tendency to sacrifice themselves for others to be ridiculous and stupid, while at the same time tacitly respecting them for the professional path they had taken.
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