Seraphina,
I keep trying to find the moment when I became the man at the gala.
The truth is that there was no single moment.
It happened every time I accepted your help and called it my success. Every time you became quiet and I called that agreement. Every time I noticed my mother humiliating you and decided peace was more important than your dignity.
I stole your signature because I had already spent years stealing credit for your work.
I do not ask you to answer.
I read it twice.
Then I placed it inside a drawer.
Six months later, I wrote:
