The handwriting was careful, controlled, nothing like the man who had stood on the platform that morning and thrown his contempt at her in front of the whole pack. This was not a man speaking. This was a man documenting.

Marina read it once silently before she read it aloud, because some instinct told her to know what was coming before Silvain heard it land.

Luna,

If you are reading this, I did not make it to the second meeting I had planned for tonight, and I have run out of time to be careful about who I trust with what I know.

I have hated you for three years...