Maggie and Shelby, my half-sisters, are the only two people that make me want to go back to Ashen Springs. I mean, Cheyenne is okay too, and as a mom, she doesn’t suck all that much, but it’s them that hold my heart. Grabbing the letter, I walk inside and slide it onto the counter to read while I drink my breakfast.
It feels so good getting back into my routine. Before I was interrupted by Ms. Hysterics, it was actually a good run. Once I get all the ingredients into a cup with a blender ball, I pick up the letter as I shake the container back and forth.
Shelby filled out both of our addresses, but she let Maggie write my name. It’s a stark difference between the two pieces of handwriting, but all it does is illustrate just how different they are. Maggie still has her childlike wonder, making her handwriting reflect that with a larger scrawl. Not hemmed in or confined.
Shelby, on the other hand, has a much more restrained style of writing. Though being with that Raven asshole, Logan is sure to make anyone feel hemmed in and unable to express themselves. She didn’t know I was her brother until much later, but it would have been interesting to see if there was a difference before Logan and now.
It almost hurts to see the two bits of writing side by side. Such a vast difference, such a different life between the two. Setting the letter back down, I take a swig of my shake and grimace at the chalky taste as it slides down my throat. There are far tastier things I’d rather be consuming - Shelaine being number one.
Once I down the last of it, I place it in the sink and go back to the letter. Shelby keeps her letters infrequent, and I can only assume it’s so Micha and the rest of the Ravens don’t know about our communication. That, or she just really doesn’t have that much to say to me.
I open the letter and nearly laugh as small unicorn stickers pour out of the envelope and onto the counter. I’ll have to figure out some way to distribute these so they go to good use. Perhaps I’ll just place them somewhere randomly so others can enjoy them.
But knowing Maggie, she’d want me to use them and give her a detailed report of where and how they were placed. Tucking them back into the envelope to use at a later date, I skim through the letter, a small smile tugging at my lips as Shelby congratulates me on getting the new job and not being a total fuck up.
Reading over it one more time, I take the envelope and letter and walk over to my closet to hide it with the rest. It’s not that I’m worried about Shelby being discovered; it’s more that I don’t want people to see this sappy side of me. In the wrong hands, it’s a weapon.