When he picks up the mail from the post office, among the official correspondence for the lighthouse and a few notes from friends and family with Alecto included in the address line, which makes him smile, he sees a letter in a strange hand, on unfamiliar stationery emblazoned with the name of a legal firm. He brings it back to the lighthouse and opens it with curiosity, some excitement (and, oddly an underlying trepidation), skipping the salutation and introduction (it was indeed a law firm, a name that had come up a few times when he'd still been following the inheritance dispute closely).

As the lawfully appointed executor of estate of the late Mr. Nathaniel Blackburn, I am given to understand that you, Joshua Archer, an employee in good standing of the Lighthouse Service, are the current husband of his spouse, formerly Alecto Blackburn, who from this point on will be referred to as Alecto Archer.

I am also writing to you to offer my belated apologies for the delay in response to your initial inquiry, dated six years ago, and the subsequent inquiries, the most recent dating back two years.

While untangling the legal ramifications of Mr. Blackburn's untimely death, some items identified as belonging to Alecto Blackburn were indeed discovered among the stored effects of the deceased. Please see an itemized inventory of those items enclosed herein.

As there is no identity record of an Alecto Blackburn/Archer (no maiden name was ever uncovered) beyond the two certificates on file for his first marriage to the late Mr. Nathaniel Blackburn and his second to yourself, I am writing to you in hopes that you can convey these final wishes of the deceased to his beloved wife.

If you and/or Alecto Archer should wish these items returned, we require a request in writing with physical proof of your identity; this proof can be provided in person at any of our offices listed on the subsequent pages, or by post. You may furnish an address for these items to be mailed; they will be shipped to the address you choose at the discretion of the estate.

If we do not receive a response from you by the end of the year, these items will be destroyed in accordance with the wishes of the deceased.

Sincerely...

Joshua flips through the pages, back and forth. He's not sure exactly how he feels, at the moment. There is no question in his mind that he would write back, that he would furnish whatever proof they demanded, that he would follow this seemingly final clue, one last thread to unravel, one last chance to solve the only mystery he cared about of all those left in the chaos of Nathaniel's death almost six years ago: Alecto's coat.

It's listed, right there in the inventory, as: A seal fur coat, very fine, of unusual color and luster

Easy as that.

~~~

Joshua is quieter than usual that afternoon, responding almost immediately to Avery and Alecto when they address him, bouncing Avery on his knee at his insistence, but otherwise falling into silence, staring off into the distance. He kisses Alecto with his usual attentive tenderness before he heads back up to the lighthouse, wrapping his arms around him just a little bit tighter, more securely, feeling strangely reluctant to pull away.

As he sits in the lantern room gallery, watching the light flash out into the darkness, he realizes what it is.

He's afraid.

Alecto has entwined himself into every aspect of his life, his work; there were parts of the lighthouse itself that held his mark, some small consideration or decision that indicated his care for Joshua and his comfort. There was literally nowhere he could look without being reminded of Alecto. They had a child together, a home together.

For as long as he had the reality of him, those mementos would be sweet, the scattering of light and magic over every single step he took.

Joshua has no idea if he could recover, ever, from losing that.