June 23rd, 1888
Eavan,
Yes, I've been writing them. Mostly Abigail. She seems to be going stir crazy. I really do think you need to meet them sometime. I think you two would get along well. You remind me a lot of her. Not one to sit idle for long before needing to do something.
I'm not entirely sure what to tell your father if I'm being honest. I suppose the truth would be best. Except for maybe how our picnic was spent. I'd like to stay alive long enough to see you down the aisle. Really, I trust you. Whatever you think is best is certainly the best route.
Yours,
Fletcher
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