Cassandra Morrow
207 Walnut St.
Pacific Junction, IA 59848
USA

Natalie Morrow
Somewhere in London, I think
United Kingdom

Natalie, I don't know if these letters are getting to you, but Happy Birthday. Are you still in London? Are you happy there? I hope so. I know you were never happy here and I said that's all I always wanted for you. I guess I still can't believe that this was how it would be. The selfish part of me wants you to be homesick and come back, that during the holidays you miss us. Forgive me for that. Even if you're not sorry you left, I forgive you for leaving.

I got a new job in Kansas City. It's a big apparition but I'll be assistant hospitality coordinator which is their fancy way of "in charge of housekeeping". I'd just move to KC if it weren't for your aunt.

Are you safe and warm? How are you getting by? Did your new friends get you a cake? Am I just asking questions into the void, dropped by some lost owl into the ocean? In any case, if you get this, please write back, and maybe come back for a visit. I wouldn't make you stay. Things could be different.

I love you, Nat.

Mom

Mom,

I kept your letter, the first and last that found me, in the pocket of my violin case. I saw it every time I played but I didn't know what to say. I was afraid you'd be mad. How could I ever be make up for leaving how I did? It's so much easier not to think about the crater I left behind.

I am warm, I am safe, my friends are vibrant and kind. There's the Oracle, the Star-Spun Sister. I met a Muse and her friend the Cared-For Painter. Everyone is young, except the Hound who sees danger everywhere. (Luckily, he's wrong.)

It's everything I thought it would be but I didn't know that leaving you behind would be so heavy. I miss you. I want to see you again, but I need some time. I became different.

This phone number works for texts most of the time: ▋▋▋- ▋▋▋▋I'll write again.

Love,
Natalie