Empathy, my ass

I received a letter in the post today from the untrustworthy Xylander. I went to the Rhyme, the same place I can no longer call home, and sat in the front drive to read the almost too-elegant script. It was easy to set it on fire, watching the corners burn first until the whole parchment was soon consumed. What do I owe the Professor or Zillah Grey, for that matter? Nothing.

It's hilarious to think that they would actually think I could help. I've been trying this whole time, blindly following my heart, only to be betrayed yet again. How come I never see this coming? I should expect it after all of these years. I would never let the Professor cast any sort of magic on me and last I spoke/argued with Zillah, he already had plans with his new-found Mistress to return him back to his glory days. It seems they all have it under control, so now is my chance to disappear into the crowd and let them worry about their own problems.

Goodbye Drama.

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