The Last of August

And if you find yourself reading this and thinking, Moriarty is being horribly condescending, you’re not my dad, etc., then think of this as a letter I should’ve written myself, years ago. Think of yourself as another version of me. And if that makes you angry, too . . . then just think of yourself, full stop.

If you can’t do that, run.

Happy New Year, Jamie,

August