“It’s addressed to me.”

Jethro looped an arm around my waist, trembling with everything I felt.

The confusion.

The hope.

The sadness.

The happiness at hearing from her one last time.

“Open it.”

The glue on the envelope had weathered and unstuck, gaping open as I turned it over and fumbled with my sling to pull forth the note.

Dear my sweetest daughter,

I’ve promised myself I would write this letter so many times, and every time I begin, I stop.

There is so much to say. My mind runs wild with guidelines and tips for all things you are yet to enjoy. First love, first heartbreak, first baby. I’ll never get to see those things. Never see you grow into a woman or enjoy motherhood.

And that upsets me, but I know I’ll be proud of the woman you became because you’re part of me, and through you, I shall remain alive, no matter what happens to my mortal body.

There might also be a chance you won’t achieve what I hope you will. That you’ll fall to the guillotine like me. That we’ll meet far too young in heaven.

But I’m not thinking those thoughts.

If you live at Hawksridge while Cut is still in power, remember two things. That man is violent, unpredictable, and cruel. But beneath it, he can be manipulated. A man who has everything has nothing if he doesn’t have love. And he’s never had love. I pretended to give him that. I hoped my false affection could prevent my end, but I didn’t have it in me to love him true. I love your father. I can never love Cut while I have Arch in my heart.

And that was my downfall.

Anyway…

Before I prattle on about nothing, I have to tell you two things. I’ve hoarded these confessions for far too long.

First, I need to tell you about your grandmother.

I know by now you will have seen the graves on the Hawk’s moor. You’ll have seen her name on a tombstone. But what you won’t know is…that grave is empty.

Like you, I believed she died at the hand of Bonnie’s husband.

But that was before Cut told me the truth.

He viewed his father as weak because that was what Bonnie fed him. However, I see Alfred Hawk as one of the bravest men. He succumbed to tradition and claimed my mother. He completed the first two debts, but his affection for her—the love he could never give Bonnie—meant he couldn’t attach the collar or kill her.

So he did the only thing he could.

He pretended to end the Debt Inheritance. He buried a fake corpse and set her free. He gave her a second chance but with the strictest of conditions: never contact her Weaver family again—for her sake and his.

She kept that promise for many years. I grew up believing she’d died. However, one night, I received a phone call from Italy. She was alive, Nila. She’d watched me from afar, celebrated when I had my children, and lamented when I was claimed. She would’ve fought for me—I know that. But she died before she could.

Now…Nila…this is the hardest part to write. The second secret I’ve kept my entire life, and I honestly don’t know how to tell you. There are no easy words, so I’ll just have to swallow my tears, beg you to understand, and hope you can forgive me.

My children.

I loved you. All of you. So, so much.

I let my fear get the better of me just before they took me. I begged your father to hide you. But we both knew this was our only chance. Arch didn’t want to go ahead with my plan. Don’t hate him, Nila. It was me. All me. I take full blame, and even though I’m dead and you can’t berate me, know I died with regret and hope.

I regret you living in my path, but I’m full of hope you’ll achieve what I couldn’t.

I always thought a letter like this would be long and full of tears, but I know now (after so many failed attempts) that I can’t over think this. I can’t write everything I want to say because everything important you already know.

You know I love you.

You know I’ll always watch over you.

And I know when Jet comes to collect you, you’ll win. You’ll win, darling daughter, because you’re so much more than I ever was. You’re the strongest, bravest, most brilliant daughter I could ever ask for, and that’s why I sacrificed you.

Does that confuse you?

Does that make you hate me?

If it does, then I won’t ask for your forgiveness. But know I believed with all my heart you had the potential to do what I couldn’t. I chose you over her—over Jacqueline.

I made that decision. Right or wrong. I’ll never know.

After watching you grow up, I just know you have the power to end this. And it was a risk I was willing to pay. You were the one I pinned all my hopes on. You were the one to save us all.

I love you, Nila, Threads, my precious, precious daughter.

Forgive me or not, I’ll never stop caring for you, never stop watching.

Please, try to understand.

I gambled both our lives to save so many more.

Thank you for being so brave.

Love,

Your mother.

JACQUELINE?

Who the motherfucking hell is Jacqueline?

Nila dropped the letter. “What does she mean? She sacrificed me?” Her emotions swelled in one huge wave of question marks. “What does that mean?!”

Jacqueline.

Jacqueline.

Who the fuck is Jacqueline?

Snapping out of my trance, I pulled Nila away from the table, the box, the condemning note. “Nila, it’s okay. Don’t—”