They will wonder about me; I know they will. They will spend immeasurable, endless hours examining the evidence. Their minds will whirl with what they know about me. What they think they know. Their tenuous theories about me and their haughty moral sanctimony do not affect me in the least. If I needed to, I could assuage the harshness of my behavior. Blame it on the environs in which I was reared. There was no sin and no God. They will say I was a heartless beast. So be it. But I cannot abide them telling her that I never loved her. That she was a ruse. Part of a Machiavellian plan in which she played only a tiny, unimportant role. She was the only thing in my life that I ever wanted to protect. The KGB did not want me to have that child. They surmised that it would make me weak; unloyal. But I fought for her. She did not arrive in this world for any other reason than my wanting her here. In the delivery room I handled the pain that reduces other women to shrieks of agony because I felt no unease at all. Sydney came into the world in the most peaceful way. When the doctor placed her tiny, shriveled baby's body in my arms it was the closest thing I had ever felt to unbridled joy. If there was a God in heaven, I knew how he felt after creating the face of pure beauty. I could not rip my eyes away from her. Already, there was an intense connection. She was such a happy baby. She almost never cried. She would look up at me with those too-serious brown eyes and I would know what she wanted. Now, in my cell I remember everything about her. It is how I spend countless hours. I can feel the silky texture of her hair curled around my fingers. I smile as I remember how I watched her for hours on end. Anything she did I found amazing. My awe was genuine, and that, they do not know. They could never understand the pride I felt watching Sydney fingerpaint, or toddle across the carpet from her father to me. And she was an exceptionally bright child. How could she not be? She began to exhibit the signs of having a photographic memory. Hearing that little girl laugh brought tears to my eyes. I knew for her, I would do anything. I remember Jack and I talking while she played near us in the park. Sunlight streaming down upon her and those dimples that made her beautiful as the Botticelli angels. The soft white skin that showed easily every bruise and scrape. I was spellbound by her perfection.

I've killed and I'll have to again I'm sure. And I swear I'll kill anyone who tries to tell her I don't love her. She is the most beautiful, sinless, perfect girl on earth and she is mine to protect. She always will be. Why did I leave if I love her so much? They threatened her, of course. She is the only link to my heart.Wars could be waged based on my love for her. I would do anything to save her and they don't know it. I left a little baby of six alone and vulnerable. I know I have a heart because it's breaking now.