I folded the paper and plucked one of the small purple flowers beside me. Picking up Wilma’s letter, I read it one more time.
My sweet Devina,
So sorry that I’ve only written you a few letters but I can’t tell you how busy I am as a married woman.
Emmerson is on me all the time and we’re learning about marriage together. I’m not saying it’s easy because there are days when he annoys me more than Tyton with his know-it-all attitude. Like for instance, he postulated that all women in the Motherlands have short hair and look like men. Since I’m the only one with a Motlander friend, I consider myself an expert and I told him that you have long hair and that you’re very feminine, but guess what; Emmerson thinks that I made you up, and you want to know why? Because Tyton and my parents shook their heads like they had no idea what I was talking about when I asked them to confirm that you came to our wedding. Can you believe that shit?
Emmerson thinks it’s cute that I have an invisible friend and when I showed him your letters as proof, he suggested that I’d fabricated the letters myself out of boredom or because I long for a female best friend.
Do you know how stupid that makes me look now that I’m sitting here writing you?
Anyway, men can be fools and that’s why I’m happy I have a sound friend in you who knows how real you are and that I’m not crazy.
I love you, my dear friend, and I hope you understand that once the weather permits it, you must swim over again so I can prove to my husband that not all Motlander women have short hair.
Big hugs and lots of kisses,
Wilma
It was a good thing that my parents had kept to our agreement of never telling anyone about Devina. Wilma seemed to think of their friendship as something that gave her bragging rights, but people talked and there was no reason to let the rumor reach our unstable king, who was unpredictable, dangerous, and greedy.
A woman was worth more than all the gold in the Northlands, and who knew what twisted ideas he would have when it came to Devina?
As I threw over the letters, I felt a pang of fear in my chest that one day Devina would pick up and move on from our letters and me. She had told me from the beginning that she wouldn’t stay forever, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing our connection.
CHAPTER 27
Editing
Devina
My steps felt extra slow and heavy when I walked to the border that morning in December. Brushing fallen leaves off the catapult, I noticed how the wood had turned greenish and slimy from months out here in the forest.
I squatted down next to the catapult in the same spot where I’d found Wilma’s first bottle and stared at the border wall. I hated every brick that kept me and Tyton separated.
Nellie sat down next to me with her tongue hanging out and her eyes watching me. It was cold and her breath was showing like a cloud of moisture.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s been three and a half months since I saw him. This has to be done.”
Sending this bottle off would feel like letting the catapult rip my heart apart. This was the letter Tyton feared the most. It was my goodbye.
As a way of prolonging the moment before I had to send what felt like an arrow straight to his heart, I read my letter one last time.
My dearest Tyton,
As I already told you, I’ve never written a book as fast as I wroteForbidden Letters from the North.
With our love story as inspiration and our constant stream of letters, it felt like the story wrote itself.
With all the times you’ve offered to come to me, the temptation grows. But the wall was never what truly separated us. It’s our difference in culture and the fact that you would be feared on this side and I’d be auctioned off on your side.
I wish we could find the same kind of happiness as Mark and Deidra found in our story of them. But then Mark paid a high price and even if you were willing to give up on your family, the warm welcome Mark received in the Motherlands was fictional.
The truth is that for the last months, I’ve edited the book again and again. The glimpses of happiness when I'm picking up a letter from you has made it a precious time in my life. But I can’t lie to myself any longer. It’s clear that I’m searching for things to edit so I can justify staying a little longer although I know it’s long overdue for me to go.
Loving you is like loving a ghost that I can sense but never touch.
My publisher loved the script I sent her and I’m bringing her the final version today.
