Dear Emily,

Has it already been a year? I don’t know anymore. The sun rarely shines here and when it does I can’t see it. This year has been utterly exhausting. Victor has pressured me into having another baby. Thankfully, he’s not home very much anymore and when he does return he always has dozens of these strange silver coins. I have started socking some away for myself and I don’t think he’s noticed yet. Martha, ever daddy’s little girl, has followed Victor’s advice and moved to an island just north of Devil’s Reef. I think it might have been an arranged marriage but I was kept in the dark. Bertram’s betrayal is perhaps the worst. He is a leader in the cult that passes for a church here. Damned for eternity. Lastly, the doctors at Arkham have released Nancy from the asylum. They say she remembers nothing of the trauma but I can see it in her eyes. It’s the same look I face in the mirror. I’ll have to wait until next year to escape. I hope I can still rely on you then.

Tell nobody,

Regina Waite