She’s sleeping. She has been for hours. On her stomach, sprawled bonelessly across the bed.
She’s content. Relaxed. I’m about to destroy all of that.
Ten thousand dollars are hidden amidst her things. I hope that she finds it before she has too much time to think about money. Money is the world’s greatest, most unnecessary, stressor. There are really far greater things to worry about. She’ll have enough of them without that one trivial concern. I know it’s going to be cold comfort, but it’s all that I can offer.
There is a bruise on the base of her throat. I must have done it by accident. When I put my face close to the skin there, I can smell the blood, but I’ve still never tasted. It’s proof to me that I am stronger than nature. And stronger than I thought.
If she does stir before sunrise, she’ll think I’ve gone out to do my usual nighttime prowl, to return to her with a small feast by morning. When she wakes in the daylight, the food will be here waiting for her. But I’ll be gone.
I hope she doesn’t hate me.