Erin, after her surprising meeting with Gideon went back to the store to write. The letter that she couldn't bring herself to write was suddenly easier and easier as she pushed her pen. She had so much to say to her sister, and she felt like maybe she should just say it.

Try it.

The ink already on her hands was growing and she was starting to look worse than Everett. Blue splattered and sputtered as she scraped out her letters. Many drafts crumpled and discarded until finally. She was done.

Erin asked George to take her to the apartment. It was the only place she knew Lydia would be tonight. She would have waited to the morning, but it felt cruel... for her not to have gone after her sister. She took the letter, with Lydia's name neatly scribbled on the outside and looked for a mailbox.

There was a slot. Erin thought for a long moment and slid the letter through the slot. It slid through and onto the ledge below it. Face up was Lydia's name in the blue loopy text that was always Erin.

Hopefully, she'd see it.

Lydia,

This is draft like fifty. And I cannot sort my brain enough to say half of what I want to say. Short of I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I spend so much time being miserable and trying to destroy myself that I drag you in with me. It's not fair. They're not your problems. I'm sorry that I hurt you while I hurt myself, you don't deserve that.

You asked me a lot of questions, many I didn't answer. I'm going to try.

Why do I do what I do?

I'm going to try and tell this through a story.... On my fifteenth birthday, I fell out of a window. I was drinking a bottle of vodka and trying to smoke a cigarette without setting off a smoke detector, and I slipped. I broke my leg so badly that I was in the hospital for a week. They had to break my other leg to stop my growth..

My mother, when she came to check on me, looked down at me and shook her head. She pursed her lips and said "Erin, you spend so much time trying to get people to notice you, that you don't have any time to notice yourself."

She was right.

I do what I do to prove to myself that I'm worthy of being loved. It's stupid and ridiculous and completely contrary to everything anyone I've ever loved has said to me, but I do it anyway. When I was hanging from the window I new i was being stupid, when I was kissing Chi I knew I was being stupid, but I couldn't stop myself. I can't.

Do I care?

Of course I care. I want nothing more than to be a source of joy to those I love, not pain. I want nothing more than to have you be happy, and my existence be a part of that. I try so hard, and I know you see it, to be a help. To give gifts, and help my neighbors, to be a friend and a comfort. I think most of the time I succeed.

Why do I act like I don't care?

This one is a lot harder. Because whenever I do something wrong.. I feel it. I feel guilt and shame, uncertainty and self hate. I just.. can't let anyone else see that. Part of me thinks there is nothing wrong with flirting and kissing and being the fool. And had I not gotten married, I don't think there would be. I'm young. Very young. And I was married when I was barely eighteen...

Now, however, it is wrong. It's wrong and I should care. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't drink as much as I do, and I should stay inside the inn, and I'm sorry. But, to get the record straight... I never walk home alone, I never walk alone late at night. I don't put myself in fights, and I have kept out of trouble...

I don't know. I feel myself talk around in circles, and... Look, I've never been accountable to anyone in my life. My parents sent me off to school, I never really had close friends. I don't know how to do this. I am bad at it. I'm sorry that I sometimes don't take you into consideration when I do things. I wish I could just wake up tomorrow and be able to be the kind of person you need me to be. You're so much better at understanding what people need. What to do and what to say. You're so much better at being a good person.

I respect you, I look up to you. I wish I was able to think of others like you so and relate. I wish I was able to just.. express myself in ways that don't hurt other people. From the moment I was hanging out that window, I doomed myself to a life of this.

I'm not going to promise you I'll change. I want to, but I can't handle another broken promise about myself. Plus, when I was trying that for Sebastian you told me I should only change for myself. I believe that. i do want to only change for myself. And I want to stop hurting you.

Please accept my apology, I know I was... terrible to you. It was horrible of me to ask you what I did to try and... whatever I was trying to do. I just want things to go back to the way they were. back when we used to talk to each other and things never got this far. I feel like at some point it wasn't okay anymore for either of us to open up to the other. I don't want that to be the case anymore.

Much love, your sister,

E

Was Erin awake? Of course she was. When was Erin ever asleep?

Storm and her had parted for the night and Erin was reading. Not a new hobby, but her favorite. She sat with an old beat up notebook and read Plato's Republic . Notes and quotes were scribbled as she read. It was like she was reading for school, but, honest, she kind of was.

The knock took her by surprise. She went to the door and checked the peep hole. No one. Huh.

Gun drawn, she opened the door slowly to see who it was. And spotted the letter. The color of the writing gave away what it was and she smiled and sighed at once. It was good, bad, or both. But it would help set her at ease, at least.

She took it inside, and set herself on the window seat.

Erin let out a long breath. It was full of relief and regret, remorse and acceptance. It was one complicated breath.

Twice now, in the same day, had someone said they missed the "old her." It was starting to set in. She had so much thinking to do, cataloging.

Did she miss that person?

Heck, she was a whole lot less crazy.

Erin laughed to herself, the thought seeming amusing to her in so many ways. She folded the letter and tucked it in a drawer. She'd save it, for now. It was something important to have. She was glad her sister had given up trying to fix her, change her-- this was something she always wanted the people she loved most to do. It was easiest to change, to settle, to stop rebelling when people weren't pushing on her.

For a moment she contemplated the inn. But it was too late and too dangerous. Plus, she knew why she wanted to go there. Her sisters words were not enough to dissuade her mind. Though they were enough to make her think more critically about what it was telling her to do.

Erin took the stairs slowly. She didn't want to waken Storm at this hour. The door closed lightly behind her and she took her place in front of the mirror. It had been a long, long time since she'd done this. Looked at herself and thought.

And it was time she remembered what she used to see.