The letter arrived on a Tuesday—hand-delivered by a creature Glad had never met.
Gladys,
You don't know me, but I've known you for a very long time. I was there when you were turned. I watched it happen. I couldn't stop it.
I'm your mother.
Your real mother. Not the one who raised you—she was human, and she loved you as her own. But I'm the one who gave birth to you. The one who held you first.
I've waited 176 years to tell you. I was afraid. Ashamed. Convinced you'd hate me for not protecting you.
But watching your story—watching what you've built—I can't stay silent anymore.
I'm in Dumaguete. At the community center. If you want to meet.
If not, I understand.
Either way, I'm proud of you.
—Lilith
Glad read it three times.
Then she sat down very suddenly.
"Ariel," she whispered. "I need you."