For two days, the letter lay in the kitchen drawer, beneath a pile of clean rags and Millie's colored pencil box.Rovan did not open it. He did not touch it. Every time he opened the drawer to grab a spoon or a plate, the cream-colored envelope was there—silent, without a stamp, without a sender's name, with very neat blue ink handwriting on the front. He closed the drawer again. Took what he needed. Pretended the envelope did not exist.Millie did not notice it. The child was busy with her new drawing—a castle with a dragon on top of it, and three small stars in the corner of the paper. She hummed while coloring, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.Rovan cooked noodles. Placed two bowls on the table. Sat down. Ate."Dad," Millie said between bites. "Tomorrow Miss Eleanor said there is a drawing lesson outside the class. In the park.""Good.""I want to draw a big tree. One where the roots are visible." Millie blew on her noodles. "Can Dad help draw the roots?""I can."