Long way to go
CASPIAN He reads her second note three times. Then he sits with it. The paper rests between his fingers, light as anything, and still it feels heavier than it should. He reads it again anyway, slower this time, tracing every word the way a man studies a map he’s not sure he trusts. She wrote it carefully. That much is obvious. Not impulsive. Not careless. Every line chosen with intention. Which means she knew exactly what she was doing when she wrote it. She knew about the curse. She wrote it anyway. Caspian leans back in the chair, the note still open in his hand, the room quiet except for the faint crackle of the fire dying down to embers. If she meant to betray him, this would be how it starts — careful honesty, offered in small controlled pieces. Enough truth to earn trust be
- Writer
