Page 151 of More To Us

"What is it?" I ask.

"Hell if I no but it can't be good. Who drops off an envelope late at night?" He sits down on the recliner, staring at the envelope.

"Are you gonna open it?"

"Whoever wrote this has good handwriting." He shows us the front. "Check this out. It's like calligraphy, or whatever they call that scripty type."

"Wait a minute." Kira steps up to get a closer look at it. "That looks like..."

"What?" I ask her. "It looks like what?"

"Nothing," she says, coming to stand beside me again. "You should open it," she says to Dylan.

He rips open the side of the envelope and pulls out a piece of paper. It's folded in thirds, and as he unfolds it, I see there's writing on both sides. It's written in the same handwriting that was on the envelope.

"What is it?" I ask.

"A letter," he says, smiling slightly.

"A letter? Who the hell writes letters anymore?"

Kira nudges me and whispers, "Let him read it."

It's almost like she knows who wrote it. But I don't ask because she's giving me a look to keep quiet.

Dylan's expression turns serious as he reads the letter, turning it to read the other side. When he's done, he just stares at the floor, not saying anything.

"What did—" I'm stopped by a sharp tug on my arm by Kira, who's giving me that 'keep quiet' look again. I don't get it. What the hell's going on?

We both look at Dylan. He's still staring at the floor, but that slight smile appears again. "She said she'd write letters," he mutters.

Before I can ask what he means, I get another tug on my arm by Kira and see her mouth the word 'wait' to me.

Dylan starts mumbling again. "She said if she ever found him, she'd write him letters. She said it's romantic." He laughs to himself. "The girl is fucking crazy. And yet..." He bursts from his chair and runs back to his room.

I turn to Kira. "What the hell just happened?"

She smiles and quietly says, "Amber wrote him a letter!"

"Amber? How do you know—" I stop when Dylan comes back in the room. He's walking fast and looking all around. He searches the drawer in the side table, then slams it shut and goes in the kitchen.

Moments later, he races back to the living room. "We don't have any paper." He scrubs his hand through his hair. "Shit."

"What do you need paper for?" I ask.

"For his letter," Kira says quietly to me. She looks at Dylan. "Can you use notebook paper? I'm sure you have some of that."

"No." He shakes his head really fast. "It has to be real paper. Nice paper. Like old-fashioned paper."

"Old-fashioned paper?" I ask as I watch him search the drawer in the side table again. "What the fuck you talking about?"

"I'll explain later," Kira whispers in my ear. "Let's go."

The doorbell rings and Dylan stops his frantic search and stares at the door. The bell rings again and a girl says, "Dylan, hurry your ass up. It's cold out here."

He walks quickly to the door and flings it open. Allison's standing there in a trench coat, which I'm sure is hiding her naked body underneath.

"Hey," Dylan says, blocking the door so she can't come in. "Tonight's off. Actually, we're done."

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