Dear Sebastian, 

I hope you are well. I myself am not, as you may have already guessed. I write this letter to you from the darkest corner possibly found inside my home. I have nothing, but a simple candle by my lonesome side, for I am too afraid to light the lamps. My windows are hidden by the curtains C tailored us when we first moved into this now cursed place. They hold a dear place in my heart, thus I have not been able to remove them. But even when the moisture hides behind the thick fabric, the air around me is cold and heavy. It is like the feeling of passing through a mausoleum - compressing, and drowsy in the sense. Oh, how I wish to lay on the beach with you my friend. How I wish I could still gaze upon C in that navy bathing suit of hers. 

The doctors think I have gone mad, but that is not true at all. My mind is perfectly clear, like a glass roof after rain. I know there is no reasonable explanation for the things happening inside this house. That is why I refuse to speak about them, and C. I do not want to utter her name fully, even on this paper, for I fear it may only attract more things to happen. You are the only one who shall know the length this madness has reached. I will describe the newest events as accurately as I can in my perturbed state. It is the least I can do at this point. After all, you should have at least this letter to remember your brother-in-law by. 

It has now been two months since C passed. You must remember that day like it was yesterday - as do I. I remember speaking to you when things first started happening; lights quietly going out when I left the room, glimpses of shadows in the hallways. I knew it was her from the beginning, her soft scent lingering after me wherever I went. I could never mistake it, for it reminds me of the meadows blooming at the back of your family’s land. The same scent was still there when I fell, Sebastian. It was not logical in any way, but that damned scent was tangled in June’s soft curls. It was on her skin, inside her linen, even on her lips. And now it follows me around, poisoning my thoughts, and what is left of my sanity. 

I hope to run, escape from this broken home. But I know there is nothing waiting for me anywhere in this world - C has made that clear. I saw her, Sebastian. Staring at me from inside the bathroom mirror. She was the same as the day she left us, but her eyes were filled with nothingness. I know she knows what I did. I assume she was hurting at first, since there was a moment when time stood still inside these walls. There were no shadows behind my back. No warm summer air circling around my bed. That has changed though, I feel it - and it horrifies me more than Death himself. The air has gone bad, it is rotten. C reveals her face more often. She looks back at me from every reflective surface I encounter. Those hazel eyes now full of resentment towards her husband. Oh Sebastian, what have I done to deserve this cruel fate? 

If my cruel life was planned by the Gods, I curse them and everyone chanting their names in their prayers. My mistake was that of a noble man, which already should be the reason for my forgiveness. C could not bear children as we both knew, so I had to take matters into my own hands. June is a woman with good health and that is why I expect joyous news sooner than later. Although I wish for a better home for this child - these ruins are putrid to their core now that C knows. No child deserves to grow ol- 

My dear Sebastian,  

When this letter finds you, I need you to promise me a few things.  

First, take care of yourself and your little family. Raise your children with love and cherish the memories we shared when all was well.  

Secondly, make sure June lives a good life - along with Otto’s child. My rage for him blazed like fire for weeks, yet I have nothing but love for that small soul. Help them with anything they need, until that child is old enough to make do by himself.  

My last wish is the hardest, but at the same time the most important. When this letter finds you, saddle your horse and ride to me. Burn these walls and the memories haunting them. Let me rest.  

That is all I ask of you, my dear brother. 

Yours always, 

Charlotte