Dearest Boris,
I can't take this anymore. One more mass, one more draining, and I shall lose my mind.
You say you love me. Prove it. Find a safe place for us, somewhere to hide, somewhere even the vrakhiri are scared to go.
I can put up with every hardship – live in a cave, sleep on the floor, eat newts and bark – as long as we live apart from this madness.
Write me as soon as you find a suitable place. I shan't see you further otherwise.
Teresina