* To all the readers that read this chapter before I edited it further: I am so sorry! I couldn't believe how many grammatical errors there were! (I even called Bryan's dad "Tom" instead of "Fred.) Now, I'm so paranoid I'll have to re-read my "those" related drabbles to see if his name is screwed up in them too. *Sigh* Again, I am so sorry. I hope you like the rewrite. ;) Thanks.

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The letters have become less and less frequent lately. I swear, I think I would have lost my mind with worry if I didn't have this hotel to run. There is little time for a woman's thoughts to stray when someone is always asking something of her. Yes, there's always something to be done. . .like fluff the pillows, fix the meals, make all guests comfortable and happy. Yes sir, there is always something to be done to keep my mind fully occupied.

I'm sure Papa would have been proud of the way I'm running the place. It is still as he had originally envisioned it: lively, well kept, hospitable, and family owned. . . .Well, by one of his daughters anyway. . . .

Alyssa. . .if only you knew how sorry I am. . .about everything. I miss you my sister---and dearest friend. I was blind. . .so blind. . . .

God, I. . .I just want to know that they're alright. Is that so wrong? All. . .all I have left of Alyssa is that little boy of hers. . .Bryan.

I. . .I wish that I had been better to her. . . .I was so upset with her for going off with Fred. At the time, I only thought her behavior was merely infatuation. I just could not believe her when she said she loved him; I figured she was simply "crushing" on yet another young fellow who happened to wander into Rivet City. It was wrong of me to assume that of her. . .but Alyssa, well, she often did that. (Once she was in love with five young men at the same time. Five!) Indeed, it was typical of her to fall so quickly for a complete stranger.

Sometimes, I think she fell in love as frequently as she did, not because she honestly loved who she loved, but because she loved the romance, as well as the mystery of these men. Each were wanderers from the "outside;" each were foreigners to her, who had braved hostile territory just to find her. I suppose, Allie longed to be a princess saved from some gallant knight.

Still, Fred was different and. . .and I suppose that scared me. Unlike all the other men she "loved," Fred was the first to notice her. The first to really notice her. Instead of ignoring her advances, he welcomed them. Instead of laughing at her innocence, he laughed at his cynicism. Instead of leaving Allie far behind him, he held her hand as she walked beside him. Yes, this. . .this was definitely different. . . .

I wish. . .I wish I hadn't of let my anger and even my jealously of her consume me, but it did. I resented how my younger sister had found someone and I hadn't. I resented how carefree she was. How beautiful. How full of life! And what was I? I was the matron of the two; I was the one to clean her messes up, and tuck her into bed at night. God. . .why couldn't I just be happy for her? Why?

All I thought at the time was how foolish she was being. I thought, "Great Allie. Go run around with this gentleman you barely know, while you leave me behind in the dust! Thanks for, once again, placing all of life's responsibilities onto my shoulders. I mean, 'wow' how adult of you?" Christ, I was such a bitch to her. . . .

It wasn't as if she was truly putting herself first either. . .it was more like she couldn't help herself. She had found it: True love. How could I of ever have asked her to give that up? Because she discovered it and I hadn't? Because I was the oldest and she the youngest? I. . .I long to turn back the hands of time so I could transport myself backward, in order to prevent all the pain I had caused her. My sweet Alyssa! How I wish I could have salvaged our relationship. . . .How I wish. . . .

And it wasn't as if she liked running a hotel or being a citizen of Rivet City (the "ship of fools" she called it.) I mean, who could blame her? There were times I didn't like it. . .that I even resented it. It was our parents' dream after all, not ours. Plus, Allie, she had such a spirit. . .she needed adventure in her life. I see that now. If only this need for "adventure" hadn't of gotten her killed. . . .

Oh! And the things I said to her! I. . .I looked into those big brown eyes of hers and accused he of being a "floozy." I said that she was blind thinking that Fred could ever love a child like her; I even said I had hoped she had kept her legs closed because all Fred wanted was a "good time." I also called her an outright embarrassment to the Weatherly name. It. . .it was horrible. . .all those things I said. . . .

So, after all my harping, I suppose one could imagine my reaction to the news she was pregnant? It was as if my head was engulfed in flames, I was so consumed with anger. In my rage I yelled the one thing that I knew would hurt her the most----I called her a whore. A "two dollar whore," to be exact. It was a saying our Papa favored whenever he was upset with mama and had too much to drink. . . .I think "dollar" meant caps, but I honestly don't know. It was such an old saying. . . .

Alyssa, my sister, I am so sorry. It was my fault our bond became so strained; for it was I that cut that invisible thread of sisterly love into tiny little pieces, thanks to my bitter words. You were always the sweeter of the two of us. . .I guess that's why Mamma always called you "angel baby" and me "tough cookie." Allie. . . .

Before she died, Alyssa begun writing to me again. She even sent me some pictures of Bryan when he was first born. Mostly, she'd just let me know where Fred, Bryan, and she were. Her letters were never filled with anything beyond a status update, but it was better than nothing. Then. . .then when I got the news she had been. . .God, I cannot bring myself to think it! It was Fred who wrote me. . .and continued to write me.

I know he and Bryan are settled in Grayditch. . .but Three Dog's been reporting that that town has gone quiet all of a sudden. I couldn't bare to think that anything had happened to my nephew or even to Freddie. . . .They. . they're all that remains of my best friend, now ashes returned to the earth.

I. . .I've written to them. . . .I've written several letters in fact. Sent some care packages too. I. . .I just hope that they got my letters. I hope. . . .No. I mustn't think bad thoughts. I mustn't! No. No. No. I should get back to work. The hotel needs me. . .like it has needed me all its days, and will continue to need me until my dying day. So, I mustn't worry; I can't stop to pine over what was and could have been. No. Papa raised me better than that. It simply isn't the Weatherly way. . . .