XVI. December 21
Dear Dad,
She's gone…
And it's all my fault.
I was supposed to be home this weekend, but I decided to stay in Hogsmeade to get Christmas gifts for everyone. And now I won't be able to give Gran her gift. Ever.
It was a stroke, according to the doctors. At least it wasn't aspiration pneumonia, right? That's more prolonged…. It was most likely from the clinical trial – it's all my fault. I remember letting you know about the strokes that were happening because of the new drug, and it just so happened that Gran got the active treatment.
Its.
All.
My.
Fault.
I don't know how to move forward from there – I still have exams and interviews and graduation to go through and more… I suppose we'll see what happens from here, then. Forgive any inadvertent crying.
Love always, Teddy
