December 9th 2019, six days after Louis' death.

Dear Louis,

I found your favourite book this morning. It fell off your bedside table when I knocked the glass over, I read it out loud and hoped that you could hear me.

Do you remember when we read it together? Every night I would lay my head on you and feel the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, I would listen to your voice as you read so carefully and quietly. You would hold the book in one hand, your right, then with your left you would play with my hair because you knew it helped me fall asleep.

I can't sleep now.

You're not there to read to me while braiding my hair. I miss you so much. I hope you're happier.

Love H.