Lorelai looks utterly defeated, all dressed in black for her daughter’s funeral. Tom’s just there for her, a hand in her hair, kissing the top of her head from time to time, looking empty.

Lorelai clears her throat. “I can’t read the letter,” her voice breaks, and Elias’s dad nods.

“I’ll do it,” he says, before Elias has time to offer.

Tom takes the letter from Lorelai and opens it, a sigh escaping him as he sees her writing. He traces his fingers over it, tears filling his eyes.

I grab Elias’s hand. I give it a squeeze, trying my best to be there for him, although I don’t know how to do it for myself.

“Hi,” Tom says, reading the letter, his voice already cracking, “I clearly don’t know how to start this. I’ve never had to do this and I’d wished I’d never have to, but if you’re reading this… I’m sorry. I love all of you, Indigo included. I know she’s there and I don’t want her to feel left out.”

His dad smiles just a tiny bit, and I do too, hearing her voice through the words.

“Me doing this has nothing to do with any of you. Life was good until two months ago when a part of me stopped living. Guess that’s an understatement. The only moments I’d feel alive were around each of you.”

Lorelai sniffles, fighting back a sob, while Elias squeezes my hand. I don’t know if he realizes he’s doing it. Don’t really mind. He can break it for all I care.

Tom continues, “I don’t remember the date, which might be weird for you because victims normally remember it, apparently. Well, not me. I remember fragments of it. How I got out of class and took a shortcut home. That was my life-changing mistake. There’s no easy way to say this, but I want you to know the truth. I was—” he stops, sucking in a deep breath before raising a shaky hand to his mouth.

His face turns white, his hand closes into a fist and he presses it into his mouth, his whole body shaking.

Fuck. It’s that bad.

“I was raped—,” he stops again, cursing under his breath, trying to get through this torture, “by my school counsellor. I was disgusted with myself. His touch was everywhere, no matter how much I tried to wash it off.”

Elias stands up, unsteady on his feet. I feel sick to my stomach and cover my mouth with a hand, afraid I might throw up.

“I don’t hate him any more than I hate myself for what happened. I pray that you never have to feel your body broken while your mind watches from afar.” Tom breaks down in sobs.