The letter from Soren Mael arrived on a Monday.
Not a formal communication — a personal one, written by hand on paper that had the quality of something considered rather than dashed off. She recognised the handwriting from the café where he'd shown her Idris's notebook.
She read it at the kitchen table before the ward.
*Dr. Voss Ashveil,*
*The Idris Mael Fund's second cohort has begun their apprenticeships. Ines and I met three of the five recipients last month at the community gathering in the northern corridor. They are remarkable young people. One of them — the twenty-year-old from the outer corridor — reminded me so strongly of Idris that I had to step outside for a few minutes.*
*I wanted you to know: we were right to build this. I had doubts in the first year. Not about you or t
