Genius

Epilogue

But wait, there's more

Stein's Letter-Writing Campaign

Dear Amanda's minions,

I'm sorry for those very mean things I've said to you, please see my attached, personalized apology essays and proposals on how to make things right.

Sincerely, Stein.

P.S. Brandon should deliver these so, please be mindful that any creases or wrinkles are not due to my own inadequacy at craft and apology note making, but due to Brandon's lack of care in his delivery methods. My apologies.

Dear Susan (and Hal, but mostly Susan),

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm doing something, well, going to do something, dangerous. I'm going to look for Alice. If I find her, I don't know what will happen, but I may not come back. I probably won't come back. I have something to do, something difficult, something wrong, something evil. I'm going to right a wrong, I need to find Isa and Alice has her, but I'm also going for something a lot less self-sacrificial: revenge.

I may become a murderer today. And, if that happens, I won't come back. I don't know if I'll be able to face you after something like that. Especially after what you've been through, and what I've done to you. Please, if I don't come back, don't forgive me. I don't deserve forgiveness, I don't want it. I can't make this up to you. There is also the possibility that I will die. If that happens I will come back to you, just in a coffin. But there are some things even death doesn't absolve you from.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Three is said to be the magic number. And I know it's your favorite number. So, maybe if I say the trifecta three times, you'll understand how truly sorry I am. But I won't, because, if I were sorry enough to say it, then I wouldn't be going. So I'll write it down, and you'll never understand, and I'm okay with it. Because I'll never understand you either.

Love your almost daughter, Stein.

P.S. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But not sorry enough to stay.

Dear Gwen,

My best friend. My first friend, if I'm being honest. Other than you and some boy I met when I was eight my interaction with people my age had been limited to non-existent. When I met you and Alan, and later your family, my world got so much bigger. And I loved it. I'm not going to apologize to you, because I know you and I know that the second you read this letter, you'd call cow-poop and crumple it. I can imagine it "If she was really so [fudge-popsicle-ing] sorry she wouldn't have done such stupid [shenanigans] anyways!". You wouldn't be wrong, either. You wouldn't be wrong.

You're a good friend. An okay-ish person (that's a stretch, honestly). I'll miss you, your violent bursts of profanities, and definitely your eccentric family (they're many levels of amazing).

Bestie Stein, signing out.

P.S. To Rolland: you're probably offended that you don't get your own letter and have been tagged on as a p.s. But, worry not, for there is a reason for this. I need you to look after Alan for me, and I didn't want to be conspicuous about it so I wrote instructions for you on Gwen's note, which Alan would never suspect because Gwen would never, ever take care of him. The reason I'm instrusting him to you is because I believe in your budding bromance, I'm sure you'll fill the hole left in his heart by me nicely. Anyways, attached is a list of things you need to know about Alan, please add to the list as you please and make sure he remains in good health.

Dear Alan,

I have a lot to say to you. And most of the things aren't even what Gwen told me to say to make you uncomfortable. They're one-hundred percent Stein thought of, composed, and approved. I have a list, I'm not going to attach it though. I'm going to tell you where I stash my lists, I want you to read them. All of them. And maybe then you'll understand why I'm doing what I'm doing.