ANNA'S POV
I waited until he was asleep.
Nina took the monitor. I went back into the main room and stood at the desk, the petition on one side and the folded note on the other, in a suite that had finally gone quiet for the night.
I picked up the note and unfolded it. His handwriting hadn't changed in three years.
I'm not writing to ask for anything. I'm not writing to defend the petition or explain the last three years or give you another version of the things I've already said.
I'm writing because I stood outside this door and understood that everything I've done since the summit — the letters, the meeting, the legal filings — has been about what I need. What I'm owed. What the law says I'm entitled to.
You asked me once if any of it was real. I told you yes. I meant it.
What I di
