After breakfast, we went back to look at his mother’s diary. Well he was looking at it. I was strolling around his room. I couldn’t sit still or the silence would consume me. I think Louis noticed because he would say something every now and then to remind me that he was there and I wasn’t alone. But it was his mother’s diary he was reading, he was bound to get a little absorbed. So I strolled around, running my hands over things that fit his image and things that didn’t.

For instance, I learned that he actually liked to read. A lot. He had a lot of classics packed...