The Weight of Air

For the last five years of his life, Mr. Vance received a single letter every morning. He would take the envelope with trembling hands, press it against his cheek with his eyes closed, and then immediately lock it in his mahogany desk drawer—never once breaking the seal. He guarded that desk like a watchdog, snapping at anyone who came near. After his funeral, his children forced the lock, expecting to find a blackmail trail or a hidden will. Instead, they found nearly two thousand sealed envelopes. In a frenzy, they tore them all open. Every single one was empty.