I really didn’t have much of a choice—if I wanted to escape imprisonment, I had to continue penning these apology letters. I sighed, musing how I got to this point. The apology was made more difficult by the fact that I hadn’t done anything wrong. None of my actions came from deliberate acts of malice. Beyond that, I had never encountered Yurem before, and yet I had to write in remorse for my involvement with them.
“Ugh, why do I have to do this?” I groaned, nearly tossing aside my sixteenth attempt at a letter before pausing at the sight of Kyle’s stare.
“Miss Noa, do you recall the number of evenings I have toiled to lessen your punishment?” Kyle asked evenly.
“…Four nights,” I mumbled.
“And how should one act when they are receiving aid?” he prompted.
Admonished, I conceded, “I will write without any more complaints.”
My pen moved reluctantly across the paper as I wrote the empty words that would ensure my freedom.
