Unfortunately, despite our very ambitious drunken conversation regarding all the mysteries that we’re going to solve and the things we’ll accomplish, the Underworld has other plans.
Because in the morning, when I wake, there’s an envelope waiting for me on the edge of the daybed.
“Anton,” I whisper, rubbing my eye and sitting up, staring at it.
To my surprise, he wakes immediately, which he’s never done before. I glance at him for a moment, curious about that. But he just wolfishly shakes himself awake and turns to look in the direction of my gaze, at the envelope.
“Oh hell,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy hair. “Well, I don’t have hands, June,” he sighs. “This one is all you.”
I lean forward and grab the envelope, quickly unsealing it and unfolding the letter inside. “
