“Yeah, that’s it. Thanks.”

I tuck the book under my arm and head out to my truck.

Drive back to the cabin—back home.

Sit on the front porch with the book in hand.

Finally, I take out the note.

Nathan,

This is the last one. The last note you’ll get from me. No point dragging this out anymore.

This book is my final story. No one has ever read it. It will never be published. It will make zero dollars.

I wrote it for you.

And for Nadia.

It’s a story about moving on. About finding love after loss. It’s me asking the question, how do you move on when your heart’s true love has died? And then attempting to answer that question.

I’m no Great American Novelist—I just tell romance stories. But I think this is my best work. My opus.

Read it. Please read it, Nathan. Read it, and hear the song in it. Hear what I’m trying to say to you. To Nadia.

Don’t show it to her. Not yet. She’s not ready.

You’re here for her, Nathan. I’m sorry if this feels presumptuous of me. But it’s the only thing I can do.

These are my last words, the final words I shall ever write. This is where I write THE END on my life. I have a few more weeks yet, perhaps months, but I shall spend them with her.

I wish I had time to tell you about her, Nathan. How she has a dry, wry sense of humor. How she’s silly when she’s drunk. How she sleeps splayed out like a starfish. So many things. But there isn’t time. And, that’s what the story is for. What the cabins are for.

Redemption’s Song is for you, Nathan. Read it, and hear my final song.

The End,

Adrian

I open the book. No copyright page, no contents, no dedication. Just…chapter one, page one. He had this printed himself, just one copy.

I shut the book and hold it, stare at the cover.

I wonder what Adrian’s game was. A cabin in the woods, a book, and a few somewhat cryptic notes.

We were friends, yes. Even good friends.

But what any of it means, I don’t know.

I suppose I’ll find out.

Letters From the Dead, Part Two

“Nadia, can I see you in my office, please?” Dr. Wilson breezes past me as he speaks, white coat flapping behind him, green scrubs flashing under it, stethoscope and pens and pager and ID badge arranged on his person like armor.

“Uh, yes, sir. Right now?”