That was strange. Her desk was usually very neat but it was also filled with her work—papers, notebooks, her laptop.

Today was different. The desk was completely clear except for an envelope in the middle. It was small and a very bright white.

Sitting down in her chair, he stared at the thing and swallowed. His hands found the envelope, slowly turned it over. He opened the top right drawer and his hand came back with the slender tool. The envelope came open easy.

Inside, a perfectly folded hand-written letter in a neat, tight script.

Dear Dresden,

I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault. None of this has been your fault. You didn’t know. Don’t feel guilty, please.

It wasn’t you. It was me. I’ve always been the failure.

Don’t try to save me. If you’re reading this, it’s too late.

All my love,
Joann

He screamed. His legs pumped him up from the chair and he turned to run.

The floor rushed at him. He lay there, his drive gone, just crying. Damn no no no no no no…