Warded private; readable to Elsie, Meaghan, Pepper, Lily, Ioan

My mother is dead.


I can't even grieve for her publicly without casting suspicion upon myself and my husband and what will one day be my family. There hasn't even been a news report on it. For all intents and purposes, she has merely been lost to the ether, a death wound up in this revolting political game that makes my head spin and my heart ache.

It's in my nature to be overwrought at small things, I can't deny it -- but this. This seems so horrible a tragedy that I can do nothing but sit and be silent and wish that I had said a hundred different things when she was alive. That I hadn't argued with her, that I hadn't been such a wretched daughter. All I have left is memories and the hope that she can be proud of me.

I'm so SORRY mum. I should have, could have, would have -----