Chapter 15 - The Desperate Letter
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The peace of the weekend carried over into a highly productive Monday at the studio, right up until the afternoon mail arrived. Sarah placed a neat stack of envelopes on my desk, oblivious to the one piece of mail that instantly made my blood run cold.
It was a pale pink envelope, devoid of a return address, but I recognized the jagged, frantic handwriting immediately. It was from Chloe, the woman James had demanded I apologize to in that sterile waiting room. His former mistress.
I stared at the envelope for a long time before slowly sliding my silver letter opener under the flap. I unfolded the lined paper, my heart beating a slow, steady rhythm.
"Dear Clara," the letter began. "I know you have every reason to hate me. I am so sorry for everything I did. You were right about James. The charm was a mask. He has completely drained my savings, and last night, he hit me. I am terrified. I have nowhere to go. I don't know why I am writing this to you, but you are the only person who ever truly understood what he is capable of."
I read the letter twice, completely absorbing the desperate, familiar terror radiating from the ink.
"Is everything okay, Clara?" Sarah asked, noticing my intense focus from across the drafting table.
"Everything is fine," I said quietly, folding the letter and placing it carefully into my top drawer.
May you like
I didn't feel hatred for Chloe anymore. I didn't feel the sting of betrayal or the bitter taste of jealousy. All I felt was a profound, overwhelming sense of pity. James was a parasite who destroyed everything he touched. Chloe was simply his newest host, and she was finally waking up to the nightmare.
I was safe, but I knew I could not simply ignore the plea of a woman drowning in the exact same ocean I had just escaped.
