Sybille

Lucas’ letter lay on the pillow beside Sybille when she woke up.  She kissed it, wishing it were him.  Her dreams hadn’t helped.  How could she bear seven years without Lucas?  How would she get through today when she couldn’t even speak to him?

She read his letter again and almost choked on the words she wanted to say to him.  How could this work, if they couldn’t even speak, let alone touch?  She thought of writing Theresa, but it seemed too risky to leave evidence.  Sybille had kept a diary since she was ten, but that didn’t promise any kind of relief.  She wanted to write to Lucas, but how could she get the letter to him unseen?  And then it came to her.  She would exchange her diary for a journal wr...

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