Chapitre 33: Chapter 33

“Why in God’s name did he send it here?” I asked.

“Language, please, Warrick.” Grandmother frowned at me.

“Sorry, ma’am. But seriously. I don’t understand—”

“When was the last time you wrote to your brother?” Fox asked.

I stared blankly at him, and he nodded as if he wasn’t surprised. How had he got to know the ins and outs of my family relationships?

“Really, Warrick, you’ve become as bad as your father.” Mother sighed.

She might have a point, I supposed. One grew weary of not having one’s correspondence answered.

I opened the envelope, took out a sheet of paper, and then shook my head. “I don’t understand how a letter from Africa could arrive here in good time, and yet this one from England took almost half a year.”

“Who’s writing to you from Africa?” Mother asked coolly. I met her gaze but didn’t respond to her question. Her lips tightened, and she looked away.

I began to read John’s letter. After a few lines, I paused. “This can’t be correct.”