There were words in it I hadn’t heard from her in years: we were wrong.
But even as my chest tightened, I noticed what wasn’t there.
No mention of the private investigator. No mention of the bats. No mention of the innocent homeowner whose house they’d wrecked. No acknowledgment that they’d only faced consequences because the law forced them to. No recognition of the years of silence like I was disposable.
And the line that lodged under my ribs like a thorn:
I miss the life we had.
Not: I miss you, Lara, as you are.
I set the letter down slowly.
Julian watched my face. “How do you feel?” he asked.
I expected rage. Or grief. Or guilt.
Instead I felt… clarity.
“I think she’s sorry,” I said quietly. “But I don’t think she’s changed.”
Julian nodded. “Those can be different things,” he said.
I picked up the letter again, folded it neatly, and placed it back in the envelope.
“I don’t want revenge,” I said. “I don’t even want them to suffer. I just… don’t want them close enough to hurt me again.”
Julian reached for my hand. “Then they won’t be,” he said.