The last few weeks have felt like a dream. Admittedly a sneaky, secret dream that I probably shouldn’t be having at all, but at this point, I don’t want to wake up. Don’t want to come up for air just yet.
But I have to. Not knowing what I know now. I can’t let that happen. We don’t have much time now. It’s too dangerous to stay. I need to do something to stop this. I need to write some letters.
Lieny
