To my brother Ash,
I can't believe you. You with your twisted mind and you shot him. You shot our cousin, and you expect me to forgive you? I'm trying to forgive you, I really am, but I just can't right now. You have done a great many terrible things and I just don't know if I can forgive you today or ever. Why didn't you tell me that you were in debt? I could have helped you pay it off. You didn't have to steal. James would have helped you pay off your debt too. I always told you that your love for poker would end badly. I won't tell anyone of your doings and I will burn all the letters, but shame on you. Shame on you for killing James. Shame on you for stealing from him. Shame on you Ash. You deserve prison. But I am your sister and I wouldn't wish that on you. Knowing that you are on the run brings tears to my eyes. If you had only just listened to me when you lost your first poker game. I bailed you out and you promised, you promised that you would never play poker anymore. But you did and look at what you have become. You have become a murderer. I thought you were better than that.
I want to pretend that this is a normal letter that a normal sister would write to her normal brother, but it's not. I fear for you Ash, I fear for your life. If the police find you, they will kill you with no hesitation. You were so addicted to gambling that you killed your own cousin.
I want to remind you of a time when we were kids, we were inseparable. Just two years apart and we were best friends. We had this big tree behind our house that we would always climb. One day we were climbing up the branches, pulling ourselves higher and higher until we felt we could reach out and grab a star. We were birds, flying freely into the world. Then I slipped on the crumbling bark, falling down, down, down. I would be dead now, but I'm not, because you saved me. You caught my wrist and pulled me back up. Together we crept down the tree. I was sobbing with fright and you comforted me.
You saved a life then, you ended one now.
Sincerely,
Belle