Marlowe
King spread the folded paper across the workbench with careful hands, and I leaned in close enough to read it alongside him, my heart hammering with an anticipation that had nothing pleasant underneath it.
*King —*
*By the time you find this, I'll already be somewhere you can't easily reach. I need you to understand I never meant for any of this to go the direction it has. I've made mistakes I can't undo from a distance, and I owe your club — owe Marlowe, especially — an explanation I couldn't bring myself to give in person. Cowardice, I suppose, though that's a poor excuse for a man who's spent years telling patients to face their pain directly instead of running from it.*
*I'll explain everything when I return. I need a few days to handle something first — something that star
