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Because apparently all of my characters write letters.
Sent to the Crane residence, probably burned (by Laurea's parents) upon receipt. All "dates" are approximate.
A couple of weeks after the "lab accident", which was approximately two years ago . . .
Lauré-
Well, merde. We really screwed that one up. Seems l'école's going to pull a cover-up, though, so pas de problème academically. I've been running the figures again, with my results, and I think we may still have something. If we [technical details and discussion, omitted]. So let me know, d'accord?
-Sev
A few days to a week after the previous letter . . .
Laure-
Are you all right? Tu n'as répondu point aux lettres, aux emails, . . .
I checked the model again, and nothing should have gone that wrong. The school won't tell me anything. I'm really worried about you.
Ça m'est égal if you're blaming me for everything, just let me know you're alive, please?
-Sev
Maybe a week later . . .
Laurea, you've got me reading the obituaries pages, just to check. And you haven't showed up, so you must be at least sort of all right, but j'ai bien peur. I've reworked the model, with my results, and the parameters show [technical details, omitted].
We might be able to publish if your results back me up. Mais n'importe. Réponds-moi.
-Sev
A couple of months later . . .
Chère Laurea,
Well, je ne sais pas quoi penser de votre silence. I do think we might be able to get an article out of it, but I'd like your opinion.
-Sévérine
[similar letters at decreasing frequency]
A couple of months before now . . .
Chère Laurea,
I've written up what I have, but I am reluctant to submit it anywhere without your input. Kindly read the enclosed draft and let me know what you think.
-Sévérine
[draft of an article describing the "lab accident" enclosed]
On a card on a very nice gift basket with absolutely nothing wrong with it, delivered during a Christmas party:
Dear Mother and Father,
Happy Christmas.
Love, Laurea.
List of presents Laurea sent to her siblings since she left the house:
To Elizabeth: fingerpaints with unusual properties (glow in the dark, turn shiny when mixed, sparkle when exposed to ultraviolet, etc.), compressed air model rockets.
To Alex: various technological gadgetry.
Sent to the Crane residence, probably burned (by Laurea's parents) upon receipt. All "dates" are approximate.
A couple of weeks after the "lab accident", which was approximately two years ago . . .
Lauré-
Well, merde. We really screwed that one up. Seems l'école's going to pull a cover-up, though, so pas de problème academically. I've been running the figures again, with my results, and I think we may still have something. If we [technical details and discussion, omitted]. So let me know, d'accord?
-Sev
A few days to a week after the previous letter . . .
Laure-
Are you all right? Tu n'as répondu point aux lettres, aux emails, . . .
I checked the model again, and nothing should have gone that wrong. The school won't tell me anything. I'm really worried about you.
Ça m'est égal if you're blaming me for everything, just let me know you're alive, please?
-Sev
Maybe a week later . . .
Laurea, you've got me reading the obituaries pages, just to check. And you haven't showed up, so you must be at least sort of all right, but j'ai bien peur. I've reworked the model, with my results, and the parameters show [technical details, omitted].
We might be able to publish if your results back me up. Mais n'importe. Réponds-moi.
-Sev
A couple of months later . . .
Chère Laurea,
Well, je ne sais pas quoi penser de votre silence. I do think we might be able to get an article out of it, but I'd like your opinion.
-Sévérine
[similar letters at decreasing frequency]
A couple of months before now . . .
Chère Laurea,
I've written up what I have, but I am reluctant to submit it anywhere without your input. Kindly read the enclosed draft and let me know what you think.
-Sévérine
[draft of an article describing the "lab accident" enclosed]
On a card on a very nice gift basket with absolutely nothing wrong with it, delivered during a Christmas party:
Dear Mother and Father,
Happy Christmas.
Love, Laurea.
List of presents Laurea sent to her siblings since she left the house:
To Elizabeth: fingerpaints with unusual properties (glow in the dark, turn shiny when mixed, sparkle when exposed to ultraviolet, etc.), compressed air model rockets.
To Alex: various technological gadgetry.
