Dear Lucy,

I've asked one of my supervising nurses if I am allowed a visitor. She was, apparently, shocked that I even exhibited any sort of kindness towards her, as I generally tend to give her biting remarks. Much to my dismay, it appears that my little incident with the cocaine has left me losing privileges I wasn't aware I had. My father, apparently, believes in the strength of these letters and will allow these to continue. It sounds so dreary that I have to succumb to whatever my father wishes, but I have no say in the matter, like I mentioned before. However, in the event that you do eventually visit, I am prepared to taste the flavours you speak of.

I did ask about the phone call, to which I am indeed allowed. In previous, it appears that I had not, but because now I have someone to call, it has become something I'm allowed. Are you sure that you are prepared to have such a conversation with me, on the phone? The last time I detested someone's voice, believe me that their tongue did not go unthreatened. It was one Blaine Dartwright, I believe, that I threatened. He was quite appalled, if I recall correctly. Almost tossed his cuppa at me. No, that's a lie. He did throw it at me. Dodged it. Shoddy aim, that Dartwright has.

I do understand your hesitance in regards to telling me the indicators of my drugged state. If Florence was in your position, it would be something she'd be inclined to say as well. I do not blame you. Nevertheless, I will do what I can do disregard the temptations. Your insistence of staying in communication with me has been most telling, Baker. My desire to even attempt to go clean without being forced is even further telling. My father would be sure to praise the individual who put this pen pal system if he found out this development.

If you allow me, I'd like to move past this incident. Will you be so kind as to tell me more about yourself? It somehow irritates me that my father knows more about you in terms of factual evidence rather than myself. I'll return the favor in the next letter.

Alfendi Layton

P.S. I do detest surprises. I just only reread that portion. I'm concerned. What surprises? The last time someone sprang a surprise to me, it did not end well, Lucy.