If you’re reading this, most of the manumits here are dead and I’ve likely joined them.
It was Bernold. All this time, just like you said. He led the soldiers inside at night. I can hear the clinking of steel. The screams and everything else. I think they’ll find me, too. Very soon. I pray to God they leave me be, but it feels like foolish hope. They’ll think I’m one of you. I would.
I’m sorry. They should have believed you. And I should have tried harder to convince them. Deep down, I knew you were right all along.