Charles,
It’s lonely here without you. I spend my time thinking of you, and of our child. Please come back to me, Charles. Our son must know his father, and I must be with you. I cannot spend the warm Bolivian nights alone with only my thoughts and our son’s faint, muffled heartbeat to keep me company.
Sometimes I sit near the river and watch the water flow by. I envy the river. Its rushing currents do not know what it is to wait, or to despair. They do not know fear or loneliness. The water is ever-moving, ever-twisting, always entwined within the earth, filled with life and connected to and needed by everything around. I, Charles, am filled with life, but I am alone. I am not connected, or moving. I am stagnant. And it does not seem as if you need me very much at all.
I understand that you must be confused and perhaps frightened at what you found in my home, but I assure you it is not what it seems. I would never hurt you. But I know those who would, and they will if we are not careful. Those who would wish to see dark time engulf the earth would wish to destroy you. I am not one of those monsters.
Perhaps it was foolish and dangerous for me to meddle in their workings but I only wished to understand their methods and plans so that I could counteract them properly. Please believe me. I love you, Charles, and I need you, and our little boy will need you.
I am worried, Charles. The opposition is strong, very strong, and incredibly clever. I am asking you to come back to me so that we can take this on together. They will come after me as well. I only hope my letter reaches you in time.
Si cuando recibes esta carta, ya estas muerto, sabes que te quiero.
Ellos no pueden ganar si continuamos viviendo.
Siempre,
Karen