The letter.

Riyo had seen that wretched yellow/brown color manically taking up residence on her beautiful wood floor before. Just as she walked into the door, it greeted her with alarm and fear just by remaining stationary.

It was addressed to Miss Riyo in a cold and uncaring manner, typed in a dull sans serif font instead of showing any sense of warmth by containing handwritten letters. For moments, all the feline could do was stand in her doorway and stare.

One common practice the businesswoman had was coming home every other week to make sure something hadn’t gone horribly wrong at her not-so-humble abode (and to check the mail, of course). It was generally the same. Bills, bills, magazine she wouldn’t look at, bills, publishers scaring house, bills, and the occasional coupon. However, today was unsurprisingly different. Unsurprisingly because bad things always seemed to happen in succession for the ghoul. After what seemed like an eternity of her eyes burning invisible holes into the envelope, Riyo’s hand shakily reached out to pick up the thick paper. Everything else could wait right now. This… This was important.

The house was cold. She’d left the heat off since nobody was going to be in or around. It didn’t usually bother her since she always dressed in layers, but on this particular day, a chill went down her spine. Her steps towards the table couldn’t have been slower as a sense of dread swept over the ghoul. What if she just… Ignored it? She could pretend that it never reached her, certainly. Riyo had learned a thing or two from doing business for so long, and one was being a good liar. The problem with that, however, was that the ghoul was a curious soul. If she just threw it away, the thoughts of what might be in there would plague her like a festering wound until she-

No, that wouldn’t be the appropriate right now. Calling herself anything but sane would be almost vulgar at this moment. She needed to remember that’s what she was. Sane. She wasn’t LIKE that. Riyo wasn’t like… That…

As her lower half managed to find a seat at the kitchen table, Riyo realized through the deathly silence, she could hear her heart beat. It started to pick up as she rested the envelope on the table in front of her, quietly examining the name of the sender.

7th Circle Asylum.

No address, but it didn’t matter. She knew where it was. More importantly, they knew that she knew where it was.

“Alright Riyo.” She spoke to herself to break the silence, as she often did at home. “We need to open this. We know what it probably says, and we know we’re not gonna like it, but it’s gotta happen.” The feline assured herself, tail twitching nervously behind her. Yes, she had to do this. Pointed fingers reached down to break the seal, a cringe visible on the bakeneko’s face. The rip was so loud Riyo was certain she might go deaf if it kept up…

And then it was done. It was open. She was free to read the contents at her discretion. Aaaany time now.

It was apparent after 15 minutes of just staring at the inside Riyo didn’t want to read it, but her shaking fingers finally reached in and pulled out the folded plain white piece of paper. She unfolded it with the precision expected of her, though slower than usual. At the top was an insignia of a minotaur in a circle, and it began in a ‘To Whom it May Concern’.

To Whom it May Concern,

The patient you have left in our able hands, one Anne Marie Felis, seems to be exhibiting slow signs of recovery. While we understand and respect your request to opt out of receiving updates to the patient’s condition, certain clauses in our policies have changed and we require your presence to go over some paperwork.

Your promptness in responding would and will be greatly appreciated. This is the first of three messages to be sent. A lack of correspondence will result in legal action.

Sincerely,

7th Circle Asylum Legal Department

Riyo read the letter three times to make sure every frigid and concise word had been correctly processed, a look of extreme displeasure glued to her face. No. She hadn’t been there since the incident. Why did she need to go back now? Couldn’t they just… Send the paperwork for her to sign? Everyone else sure as hell did.

“Oh Skeleton Jack…” She finally sighed and released the letter, her hands reaching up to cover her face. She didn’t want to go back. She never wanted to see that Jack damn place again. She had left the woman there to rot, because she would’ve done the same had the shoe been on the other foot.

The shoe had almost been on the other foot.

Practically pushing away the table, Riyo stood to her shaky feet and rushed back to the front door, slamming it shut behind her and locking it in a frenzy.

The letter remained on her table.