As part of Diane's individual therapy, she was asked to write a letter to Sam to tell him how he had hurt her. It was an exercise, never meant to be sent, however it triggered an outpouring of a one-sided correspondence which remained in a patient file at Goldenbrook, safely tucked away in a basement storeroom, until a consulting psychiatrist ignored patient confidentiality rules and opened the dusty, bound expanding file marked with a simple "Chambers, D."
Carefully extracting the letters, he took them home to the privacy of his study and started to read them, but his mangled conscience got the better of him, and he poured himself four fingers of scotch instead. The next day, unshaven and wearing the clothes he'd put on the morning before, he deposited the letters on the back room desk of the "intended" recipient with a terse "These belong to you." He beat a hasty retreat back out the office door, never once making eye contact.
Sam Malone, puzzled by the small stack of neatly folded white composition paper, picked up the sheet on the top of the pile, and slowly unfolded it. One never knew what was going on in the mind of Frasier Crane since he'd come back from Seattle, so this could have been anything. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it—her handwriting. It was unmistakable, all curlicues and broad flourishes, with a deep slant to the right. Instinctively, he held the paper to his nose and inhaled deeply. Nothing. The letters were addressed to him, and the date was from… 1984? His hands began to tremble and he grimaced at the effect this woman still had on him after all this time.
This was to be the beginning of a long night. Sam secretly treasured every note she'd ever left him, and her perfumed love letters were his most prized possessions. Now that they were just beginning to lose their fragrance, here was another trove to explore and analyze and savor. But where did they come from? He didn't linger on the question long. The important thing was that he had new letters from Diane twenty years after he'd last seen her that regretful night at Logan Airport. He would read and re-read until there was nothing left.