Louis,

Do you remember the trees
outside our father’s cottage,
swaying in the breeze?

Or the look on his tired face,
when he came home
from a long day of work?

Or the taste of delicious soup
that filled our souls with warmth?
Or the smell of the fire,
burning in the fireplace
as we sat around the dinner table,
listening to his stories?

I know that life has been
rough for you,
after what happened.

You may call yourself
an outcast,
but I want you to know
that I am always here for you.

I hope that wherever you are,
you do not forget
that there is also love,
and happiness,
in those memories
shrouded by sorrow.

Your sister,

Adeline.