A/N — I officially can't get this story out of my head, so it's safe to say there will be more updates. I like the format of giving some narrative to Jane and Lisbon, but I also like letting the letters speak for themselves. I'll probably switch between the two formats. The paragraph about dealing with the hand you're dealt was inspired by a conversation in the discord server. It spurred my desire for this chapter. Enjoy, and as always, feel free to let me know your thoughts.

Lisbon,

I must admit your letter took me by surprise. A very pleasant surprise, but a surprise to say the least. I had hoped you would find a way to write, but I'd never let myself indulge in the fantasy. Hearing from you was something I didn't realize how much I'd needed.

Please send my deepest congratulations to Grace and Wayne. They deserve to have the fullest of lives — Cho, too. You said you didn't think the hand you'd been dealt was fair. It wasn't. Some of us don't get normal lives, but the important thing is how you handle the cards you're dealt. While you may not be able to beat me, you're one hell of a poker player. You'll play your cards right.

I'm starting to develop routines here. There is a little beach bar that I've been frequenting… for eggs. It turns out the diner situation here is pretty non-existent. The bartender at this little shack cooks the best eggs I've been able to find. There is also an American named Roger that can almost always be found on a barstool there. He doesn't speak much, but it's nice to hear even a few words in English from time to time — even if it's just when he's ordering another drink. There is also a dog that hangs around the bar that I like to feed every now and then. I know you'd love him.

Sometimes I stand in front of the water and stretch my arms as far as they'll go. I can feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair and the sea appears endless. And, for a moment, I forget how alone I am here. I'll close my eyes and pretend that I'm at a crime scene, and in a few short hours, I'll be napping on my couch.

I saw a flash of red hair in a crowd the other day, and I could have sworn it was Grace. As I was walking to get a better look, she turned around, shattering the illusion. I'm trying to hold on to the comforted feeling I had when I thought I saw her. I miss my couch, my teacup, and even my dingy attic. But nothing like I miss you and the team. Especially you.

You said you were taking up gardening and painting as a new hobbies. I hate to break it to you, my dear, but I have some doubts about your gardening ability. Painting might lend you more success, but I think you're picking hobbies that require too much patience. You'd do better to take up kickboxing, or something that allows you to get out that frustration I know you've been pushing down. Or even cooking — that might be more important for you to practice (I know, because I've tasted your cooking). Do keep me updated on your hobbies. I'll be interested to see how these turn out.

I'm sorry your bored with your new job. As I said before, life isn't fair. You deserve so much more. Let this Red John drama die down, and I'm sure someone will recognize your talent and skill and utilize you in a position that is worthy of you.

You told me to find someone that I can confide in — that can clean up after me. Sorry to say, but you, my dear, are one in a million. I'll just have to do my best to keep the antics to a minimum. I find that when I have nobody to impress, I behave. You'll just have to do your best to keep me in line and be my confidant through letters. I hope to hear from you again soon.

Yours truly,

U no hoo