The next morning, Cassandra goes to visit Blodwyn’s home on the edge of town. It is a little house by a horse farm where the Runnerswift used to take care of them. The horses have been moved to another farm. She won’t be surprised if this house gets snatched as soon as it’s put on the market. The thought makes her stomach turn a little.


Using the key she’d already had, she walks inside the little green house. The living room has a warmth to it that is almost indescribable. There are books on every surface, mostly about botany and poetry. There is clutter everywhere of different DIY projects she’d done, pottery, paintings and the like. She wasn’t terribly good, but they didn’t look bad. It was just how she found joy.


Breathe, Cassandra. She felt like she’d been holding her breath the entire time she’s been here. If she doesn’t hold her breath, she’s afraid of what might come out. No, I’ve got to just be strong. Just get the little things she’d want her to have in case of death. The things they’d talked about. There should be a letter around here…


She begins going through books on the coffee table, but doesn’t find any letters, so she moves onto the kitchen. It smells like every kind of herb one can think of, but what stands out to Cassandra are the brownies sitting on the counter. No doubt, pot brownies, knowing Blodwyn and finally she can’t help but laugh. It is a deep laugh, almost a sobbing laugh. Tears start streaming down her face, but she wipes them away. No, I’m not going to break down yet. Yet the laughter just tears into her.


She sits down on the floor of the kitchen, processing as the laughter finally starts to wear off. What can she do? A memory flashes in her mind. “Just make tea. Whenever life is getting you down, make tea or take a brownie or do something that makes you joyful instead. It can’t hurt to try anyway.”


Make tea. Sure. I can make tea. So that’s what she does. She gets out the kettle, setting it on the old gas stove top. Grabbing the lighter from the drawer beside it, she lights the flame, given it hardly ever worked on its own. Once that is settled, she sets on putting together her tea bag. Blodwyn’s spice pantry is legendary and she knows immediately what she needs to make: orange, ginger chai. You wouldn’t think it goes well together, but that’s what Blodwyn did - find combinations of things you never thought would work out. Of course, it’s the cinnamon honey that helps bring it together in the end.


Once she puts together the tea, she lets it sit for a couple of minutes to cool down naturally instead of by her mantle. She looks around the kitchen, noticing pictures on the fridge. Blodwyn was always the life of the party and her pictures reflected that. She knew everyone in the Freehold, whether they really liked her or not. Most didn’t really care about the little Spring who could, but to Cassandra, Blodwyn had been everything.


One picture stands out most. It was a picture from when they’d first met. Cassandra had just set on her duties charming the Spring court and Blodwyn had been the very first person she’d spoken to. The first thing she’d said was, “No. That outfit won’t do. Come here to the back and let me fix you.” A strange thing to say to a complete stranger, but for some reason, Cassandra just went with it. While Blodwyn picked out a dress from a room in the back of the bar, they began speaking. Eventually, Blodwyn had told her that they were embarking on a mission to save some human from dream poisoning. Naturally, this would be the perfect in to help the Spring court and get some goodwill, right?


The dress Blodwyn ends up picking out for her is this little black dress that practically hugged every curve of her body. Considering, up until this point, Cassandra had only worn boho, loose-style dresses, this was a big change. She wasn’t sure if she liked it, but that whole night, she received compliments. They’d snapped a picture right at the end of the night before exchanging numbers.


Taking the tea from the counter, Cassandra takes a sip before heading back down the hallway toward the bedroom. Blodwyn was the kind of person who slept like a princess with a canopy, several blankets, and pillows. They were almost to an excessive amount. She began looking for the letter she knew was in existence. Blodwyn had said she’d written a letter for her in the case of her death years ago. Now she can’t help but wonder if it had been lost.


Cassandra went through drawers and the messiest closet she thinks she’s ever gone through. Nothing. She’s about to give up when she begins going through her desk and stumbles upon many letters. This must be it. But which one?


Each letter is addressed to a different person, some open, some not, some worn with time. She begins to get frustrated as she’s looking because it feels as though there are letters for everyone but her. That’s when she spots it - an old envelope, somewhat stained with what looks like coffee or tea. In a beautiful script, Cassandra’s name is on the front.


Taking the envelope back with her, she sets herself on Blodwyn’s bed and places her tea on the nightstand. Carefully, she opens the letter. She isn’t sure if it is the letter she’s looking for, but at least it is something.


Cass,

So, I’m dead. That fucking sucks. I know you’re probably freaking out right now, but worry not, I believe I’ll be reincarnated as a cat, so there should be nothing to worry about.

Things have been hard for you, I know, but they’ll get better. Especially once you stop letting your inner saboteur get you and eat you alive. I watched it every day when Phillip left and even more so when Eliza had to believe you were both dead. I watched that destroy you every day. I bet it still does.

So, I may have done something stupid that you’ll hate me for, but I've had a letter sent to Eliza's family in the event of my death. I've been in contact with her family from the beginning, as you've already known. If her new parents decide to tell her, she’ll know you’re alive and living on the other side of the country. Whether anyone wants to do anything about it or not is up to all of y’all, but I’m gonna sleep in peace here knowing you might not have to be miserable for the rest of your life.


What?! No. No, no, no, no, no. That can’t be right. Cassandra stands up quickly. She hasn’t even finished reading the letter. “The entire point of my being ‘dead’ was to protect her from my Keeper. BLODWYN! DAMN IT!” She can’t help but yell out. “FUCK.” She begins pacing around the small room, trying to get a hold of herself. How long until she knows? Does she already know? What will she say? Can I even-?


No. Doubt starts to set in. Her parents won’t tell her. She’s too young. How is a 12 year old girl supposed to deal with that kind of information? It’ll be fine. They’ll keep it to themselves. Then the next thought sets in. Burn the letter. Have to burn it. Make sure no one finds it. No one can know.


She picks up the letter once more and quickly walks to the kitchen. Surely she can just use the lighter to fix this problem. It’ll be gone and all evidence… Well, most of the evidence will be gone. Before she lights it aflame, she takes a minute to read the rest of the letter.


Oh, and before you start freaking out, take a deep breath. This is done with every bit of love in the world, sis. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but things will be okay in the end, even if nothing ever comes of it.

I love you. Know that. Oh, and please take all of the tea and herbs you want from my cabinets. Someone needs to put them to good use.