It was just an envelope, propped on a basket of fake fruit. The name written on the front, in a neat, graceful and flowing hand, was nothing remarkable. It was such a simple thing...<br/><br/>Yet still, somehow, the effect of this one letter would shatter untold lives. She knew, even as she wrote it with shaking hands, that it was so. She knew how he would react. She knew there would be no going back.<br/><br/>...but it had to be so. There was no other way. So she left it there for him to find, stood, and turned to face her destiny.<br/><br/>The words he would read later were simple, to the point:<br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #BF0040">Dear Jimmy, <br/><br/>I never would have expected to write this letter. I always told myself that we could make it through anything, so long as we were together. I always knew that you would be there for me, no matter what came our way. <br/><br/>In some ways, I still know that to be true.... but things have changed. Things happen, and we could never have known the way things would go. I never would have guessed I would ever do some of the things I've done... and I'm sure you feel the same. Our paths are no longer parallel, my love. My heart yearns to return to the days when you and I stood in defiance of a wide world of trouble, hands joined and hearts entwined. <br/><br/>Those days are gone, though I will always carry them along with me. The girl that I was when I fell in love with you will always belong to you. The woman I have become will carry around the void left behind by 'her' parting, for I leave that part of me with you. I leave my heart and spirit, as it is all I have left to give. <br/><br/>Please remember what we shared, and hold it dear. Know that I will always love you, my dearest friend and confidant. <br/><br/>Truly,<br/>Beth</span></span><br/><br/>He stood over her as she turned to face him, knife held ready. His eyes were cold and hard as she faced him. Women always became horrid, unattractive creatures when they cried. It was always the case. Sloppy, wet, puffy, and noisy. And this one had cried a great deal. She was obedient enough, he supposed, though it had taken some coercion. Finally, when he threatened to harm her family, she had agreed to write the letter.<br/><br/>No one could be allowed to suspect that her departure was unwilling. He would take her, and no one would come looking for her. She moved awkwardly as she rose, and he shoved her impatiently. He'd been careful not to draw blood as he'd worked to convince her, but her struggles had forced him to take measures that would leave her less able to travel. He would be forced to arrange transportation. After a last glance around, making sure that all was in its place, the note left where her family would find it, he pointed to the door.<br/><br/>"It is late." he spat, voice as cold and hard as his eyes, "Your delays have cost us more time than I was willing to spend. Move. We have places to be."<br/><br/>She staggered slightly, struggling to walk. There was something wrong with her left knee. It wouldn't support her weight. But she managed it. Holding on to the thought that her family would heal in her absence in time, and they would never have to know how she'd died, she did as she was told.<br/><br/>She opened the door, crossed the threshold, and left her life behind.