“‘If you are reading this, the doctors have told me what I already know.'”

“‘The treatment is not working.'”

“‘My time with my beautiful boys is running short.'”

Daniel stopped, swallowing hard.

He took a deep breath and looked at the rain outside.

“She knew she was dying,” he said.

“We all knew,” I said.

“No,” Daniel said, his voice rising slightly.

“I didn’t know.”

“I was too busy with the firm.”

“I was flying to London and Tokyo while she was sitting in this very hospital.”

He looked back at the paper.

“‘Daniel is a good man,'” he read from the page.

“‘But he does not know how to be a father alone.'”

“‘He is lost in his work, and I fear he will drown in it when I am gone.'”

“‘The boys will need someone who loves them for who they are, not just because they carry the Whitmore name.'”

Daniel’s shoulders shook.

A single tear ran down his cheek, disappearing into his dark stubble.

“She wrote that about me,” he said.

“She was afraid for them,” I said.