There was one other thing that Rudolph pulled out of the hole in the floor in the cellar, hidden within the pages of his father's will. It was an envelope with his name on it, which started to slip out of the pages as he ran to stop the demolition.
He waited until he got home to open it.
That night, when he finally had a moment to himself, he opened the envelope. Inside was a letter his father had written to him the morning before he died.
Rudolph read the letter and finally fully forgave his father. It was a simple note, really, but Rudolph knew his father meant every word.
Saturday, December 7, 1991
Rudolph, my son,
I know when we married, your mother and I agreed not to have children, and that I tried to kill your mother when she was pregnant with you.
I'm sorry.
When you were first born, I realized that I was wrong. I knew I wanted to, still wanted to, care for you. I love you, my dear child.
