Nothing of importance, then. It did not align with the jumbled memories that Dionisia had yet to unscramble, but she would take his word for it—she remembered that Ben Crouch had a reputation with the tabloids, but not a reputation as a liar. Still, she could no disguise her unease as she lifted her quill to write her next letter.
22 April, 1891
Ben,Near the end of the month might be best. Elliott has clung to me since my return, and both my husband and in-laws have been keeping a close eye on me since I returned home. I think they worry I will fall apart the moment they turn their heads; clearly they forget my field of work.
That being said, we might even be best to wait until the beginning of the next month.
P.S. Remind me, Ben: do you have any children with your wife? Forgive me if it's something I should already know; as I said, my mind has yet to recover all the details of my memories.
