Over a letter.
The absurdity of it makes me want to laugh. The reality of it makes me want to scream.
"I just..." My voice is barely a whisper now, all the manic brightness drained away. "He was the only one who didn't look at me like I was broken. Even through paper, even without ever meeting me, he made me feel like maybe—maybe—there was still something worth saving under all this chaos."
More tears.
Falling on the envelope, on my hands, on the counter between us.
I hate them.
Hate the weakness they represent.
Hate that after everything—after ten years of survival, of violence, of becoming the kind of monster that makes other monsters nervous—I can still be brought to my knees by the loss ofletters.
But those letters were my lifeline.
My proof that the world outside existed.
My reminder that somewhere, somehow, someone chose to know me.
And now?—
Now I'm back at square one.
Alone.
Unfavored.
Surviving in a space that only wants me to become more insane than saved.
Maria's hand finally completes its journey, reaching across the counter to grip my wrist. Her touch is warm, gentle—the kind of human contact I've trained myself to flinch away from.
I don't flinch now.
I'm too tired.
"Give me the letter," she says softly.
I look up at her, blinking through the tears that won't stop falling.
"You already made the effort to write it." Her voice is firm now, decisive. "I'll send it. Consider it... a final courtesy. But this will be the last time, sweetheart. After today, I won't be able to help you anymore."
The envelope shakes in my grip.
I don't want to let go.
Letting go feels like giving up. Like admitting that this fragile thread connecting me to someone outside these walls is about to snap forever.
But what choice do I have?
Slowly—so tediously, it hurts—I release the letter into her waiting palm.
"Thank you," I whisper. The words feel inadequate.
Thank you for this crumb of kindness in a world designed to starve me.
Maria tucks the envelope carefully into her apron pocket, treating it with a reverence that makes my chest ache.
