This day has not been without its drama. Making sure the plan went into action and that my friends came through has been a stress to say the least. That, in addition to writing you this and not knowing your reaction, I don’t think I have felt this uneasy since the first time I pulled the trigger on Andrew the Porsche lover.
There isn’t much left to cover. I can see Terrence’s goons on each corner of this intersection but none have moved a step since the police showed and they keep checking their phones for instructions. I realize that this entire thing might end in vain if his desire for retribution outweighs his desire for freedom. I never actually thought about that outcome. Losing you after writing all of this and having it end in eruption would be fitting in a way. You would receive an answer to questions you might have had, but no explanation. And this letter would end up in the detritus of the aftermath. If you lived you might find it, but more than likely it would be just as much of a target as you. If things do end that way, then I apologize for bringing even more upheaval to your life but if they don’t then at least you will know everything. And I apologize for that as well.
Still no movement beyond nervous pacing from the corners. Thinking about everything coming to an end one way or another is bringing a calm I haven’t felt in twenty years.