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That night was the roughest one she'd had in a while. Half of her expected Anita to be awake to greet her and ask her about her trip, but she was in a deep sleep when she entered the room.
Anita still wore her day clothes, a pink striped faded sweater, and black baggy jeans. Willow smiled at the sight, imagining that maybe she waited for her but ended up falling asleep.
Willow pulled one of her extra blankets over her friend, tucking her in at sides she liked, then changed into the only extra pair of pajamas she had.
A lot of different things rested on her mind as she attempted to fall asleep. She imagined what Lawrence was like and what he was like with her mother, and any comparison she had with Cedric.
Should she open the letter? Reveal secrets she shouldn't see and couldn't take back? Or keep it to stick in her mother's face one day? Should she be angry? Upset? Happy for her?
She could store the letter and pretend it never happened, she could stop being selfish and help Cedric with the tournament. It was still months away, but they could start their research now if he wanted.
On top of all these things, she had no one to tell that she was now the proud title of the word girlfriend. Only the small snores in the room were there to listen to her. Nothing felt real now, all the good things and the bad things.
After an hour of tossing and turning, staring at her still packed back and thinking of the letter inside, she knew she couldn't hold it anymore.
She needed to see what he said, she needed some sort of personal insight into this story, she needed to know what her mother meant to him.
As quietly as she could, she found herself walking over to her bag and slipping the old envelope out as if it were a historic relic.
Her hand shook as she stared down at it, her sky eyes tracing the letters of her mother's name on the front over and over. This was it.
It felt too personal to open, especially since her mother didn't even know of its existence, but Willow needed to know. She needed to know.
"Dear Narcissa,"
Willow stopped at the first line, breathing in deeply, and then breathing in again. Part of her wished that she didn't see that it was dated only three years ago.
"It's been a while, as you know. But a while has felt like forever without hearing from you. I'm writing you now because it has taken me years to build up this courage and to finally attempt to reach out to you. I want you to know, I never blamed you for what happened to me.
