I have no right to write to you. I left you behind, after all. But now, I believe I must write this letter to you. You asked me once: what can I do to get through these torturous days? To put it another way, am I prepared to kill someone, even an enemy of mine? Back then, I could not give you an answer. But now, I think I might have something to say. Before I made my move, someone told me my sentence could be shortened, or I could even avoid serving jail time entirely had I wanted. A new life would await me once I got my fortune and my property back. When I heard this proposal, I felt fear. In Mansfield Prison, I met all sorts of inmates. They were in there for all kinds of different reasons, but personally, I doubt many are innately evil. Most of them were just people who could not endure their pain and had finally succumbed to fate. After coming to Rhodes Island, I have stood shoulder to shoulder with many fighters as they faced Oripathy and challenged their unfair fates. They are extremely brave, yet they pay a heavy price. There are many who lack the power or means to overcome the hardships in their way, and many more who struggle to wage war against their own fates, so much so that I felt a sort of guilt when I realized I had the ability to control my own, and to embrace what you could call a happy life. I know this too is but a kind of arrogance, and no one will be grateful for my guilt. Even if I don't lend a hand, no one will comment on my lack of action—after all, everyone is simply facing their own difficulties with all they have. But since I do feel guilt, since I do have the ability to overcome my hardships, rather than carry on a perpetual confession of my crime, I believe I should bear it on my back, displaying it to everyone out there. To show those trying to run from their own fates what it's like to face your own destiny, and to help strengthen the resolve of those about to lose their courage to do so. So I rejected that proposal, and once I was done with my revenge, I turned myself in. At my parents' funeral, I said I was free. That was no lie. To me, being in prison does not mean losing my freedom. I exacted my vengeance, my anger has been quelled, and my hatred is finally gone. I chose to face my own fate, so I should shoulder my sins as I deserve. Speaking of which, I will be incarcerated in Mansfield again. It seems I really do have a connection to that place. I will go back, and this time I'll have a chat with the prisoners to see what more I can do for them. When my sentence is over, I think I will return to Rhodes Island, or perhaps do the sort of work Rhodes Island would. Who knows? I say all this... in the hopes that it will reassure you that I have not been crushed or paralyzed by the weight of my sins. I only chose an arduous path for myself. But please believe me when I say that no matter how long it takes, we will meet again at the end of this road.