Letters
My dearest Wren,
There is not an apology that could suffice in covering my wrongdoing. I was focused on my priorities, so much so that it blinded me to the severity of my actions. You were right. I wanted to do what was best for the Order. It was selfish and deplorable. I have hated myself every day since.
And yet, because I will no longer keep secrets from you, I confess I loved reading your journal. I have never lied about treasuring your words. My great obsession with them is what held my tongue for so long about your diary. I was afraid you would stop speaking to me, stop writing to me.
I also worried that the shock of it would prove too much after all you had gone through. I am bereft at the notion harm has come to you at all, much less by my hand. If there is any way I can remedy this, please tell me. I will do anything.
Yours,
Castien