September 7th, 1888

Annabelle Scrimgeour,

It's taken a lot for me to write this and tru~~t trust the owl it goes with finds you.

I am not sure what to wre write and it's quite hard at the moment. I'll try not to make too many mistakes.

My health is waining and being in this daes dark, dark place is taking its toll on me. It has given me a lot of time to think on things.

Recently, my thoughts have turned to you. I shuad should not have treated you the way I did. I should not have done what I did.

Please write back, Annabelle. I have much to say.

I am sormt soury sorry.

Your father,
Argus Scrimgeour

  

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08 September, 1888

Father,

I refuse to disclose my whereabouts, but know that I am safe, happy, and healthy. No longer am I weighed down by societal expectations, nor do I allow the insecurities of my childhood to dictate my self-worth.

No apology will ever soothe the feelings of fear and inadequacy that you've inflicted on me over the past eight years; nevertheless, I'm glad that you've come to realize your mistakes. Know that the scars you left on my body will always serve to help me remember the man who fathered me. I, at the very least, hope your death is not a painful one, and that both Julius and Araminta will forgive you for the pain you've caused them as well.

Goodbye,
Annabelle Scrimgeour

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

September 21st, 1888

Annabelle Scrimgeour,

It took me long to write this and even as I do, I write slowly to avoid writing the wrong thing or allowing my hands to drift - they are getting weaker, I have noticed.

I do not wish to know where you are. I just wish you and the family to be safe. I do not wish forgiveness and I know that would be an impossible ask. I cannot request forgiveness of you when I cannot forgive myself. These halls - these stone walls - they are cold and damp. It is more than I deserve.

All I wish is for you to understand that I was not myself. How I acted around you - around all of my children - is not the man I am. It is not the man I ought to have been. I acted in ways I shall regret until my last breath.

Know this, Annabelle, you have grown into a strong woman I daresay I am proud of. I am not proud of how you have acted but I place blame on your actions on myself. It was my responsibility to ensure you grew up to be everything you should have been and instead, I allowed you - encouraged you - to go down a path I did not wish of you. It is a responsibility I failed.

I have failed as a father and a husband and that is my doing.

When I came to you that night, my mind went dark and I could not see my own reflection.

I trust you will make a life of yourself that you are happy in.

Your father,
Argus Scrimgeour

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