Week One
Dear Azalea,
It's lonely here. Will you visit me?
Love, Agathe

Week Two
Dear Azalea,
I miss you. I miss you and Father and Nicolle and your lovely children and husband..
I hope you all visit soon.
I am scared, Aza.
My room is nice though.
When you all visit, I'll show you.
I miss you.
Love, Agathe

Week Three
Dear Azalea,
I received your letter.
You are wrong.
Father is not dead, and neither is Nicolle or your husband or your children, and my room is not a cell. Why would they be?
Well, now I've gotten all upset.
On the other hand, it is sad you won't be visiting. The only ones who do are the rodents and the guards.
You did not explain why. I will assume you are busy with your children.
Silly Aza.
Love, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
I ran out of space in my last letter.
I'll make this short.
Why would you say such horrible things?
Don't make yourself upset.
No one has died.
No one has died.
Are you alright?
Please visit.
Love, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
I got your latest letter.
Signed, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
There was no fire.
No one is dead.
My room is not a cell.
Why are you like this?
Please visit.
Signed, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
There was no fire.
No one died.
I am not in jail
I am in my room
You are lying
Why do you lie?
I detest you.
Do not visit.
Agathe

Dear Azalea,
I do not want to write to you.
I don't know what I was thinking, starting this letter.
It would be a waste of parchment if I tossed it.
But..
Would you visit?
Signed, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
If I promised never to be angry at you again, would you write back?
You haven't since my last-last letter.
I doubt it.
What if I promised to never write to you again?
Perhaps. But I could never, to my own sister.
I vow never to be so crude ever again.
Would you visit me?
I'm scared.
Love, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Please visit. Or just write back.
I'll do anything.
Love, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
Sometimes I wonder if I hit the wall of my room with my fist enough, could I see the sky again?
Could I slip out and fall and be free and feel the wind on my face instead of this stale air?
My hand would bleed.
You wouldn't like that.
But it would hurt, too.
At least I would feel something.
Signed, Agathe

Dear Azalea,
I don't seem to find light in anything now.
It's dark.
I can't escape.
Even these letters seem pointless.
Sometimes.
The guards used to be background noise.
But now they look upon me with pity.
I will die soon.
That's what they say.
I don't want to.
I do.
I don't.
I do.
Aza, Azalea.
Could it be the last day that I can write your lovely name?
Agathe

Dear Azalea,
I'm tired.
I just want to sleep and slowly slip
far
far
away.
I can't seem to wake up in the morning,
or eat,
or think,
or live.
The guards just won't
stay
away.
They hover like vultures over weary prey.
Ready to dive in as soon as I pass out.
Which will be soon.
Agathe

Dear Azalea,
What have I done?
What did I do?
Agathe

Dear Azalea,
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
What have I done?
The guards say tomorrow.
Tomorrow I will join Father and Nicolle and your husband and children,
Will they forgive me?
Would you?
Agathe

Dear Azalea,
This will be my last letter.
The guards are coming for me.
I'm sorry.
Do forgive me.
Please?
You don't have to.
I love you,
I'm sorry
Goodbye,
Agathe