Letter From Rochelle Anders

I know we didn't part on good terms. And you know I'm bad with words. So, how to start...? ...When I look at the sky, I recall how you taught me to glide. Remember how I was so scared to jump, to drop down the ledge of the harbor? You were there. You held my hand. Guided my strike when I hammered my first iron, sparks flying. You never wavered. ...I didn't mean to raze your forge down. I was angry. Livid. I have my mother's temperament, as you always say. I'm sending new Smithing Tools. They work like a charm. Because... I wanted to apologi— ...No. You'll always be my fath— No... Oh, I don't know. Forget it. We both know I'm not good at goodbyes. A true Anders at heart, like mother. So, how to end...? Well. Goodbye. — Rochelle