The next day, Galinda was busying herself by fetching the mail and opening it, regardless of whether it was hers or Elphaba's. It was only till she reached the bottom of the pile that Galinda found the letter and small package.

The letter was encased in a very formal little envelope, a pleasant cream in color, and hand-addressed to Miss Elphaba Thropp at Shiz University. The package, on the other hand, looked as though it were wrapped very messily, with the ink-written address splotched with drops of water. Tears?

Galinda's heart sped up, and she hesitated. It was from Elphaba's father. Should she open it? Maybe, if it was insulting or . . . otherwise she could simply toss it in the trash? To help Elphaba a bit? To be a good friend?

Galinda slid her index finger beneath the envelope's flap quickly. Elphaba could be back any minute from getting them breakfast, and asking for her mail. Galinda tossed her care package from home out of site, and then proceeded to rip out Elphaba's little letter.

My daughter, Elphaba,

I have written this letter as a sort of last goodbye and to inform you of special occurrences. You have been disinherited, I've decided. You are considered no longer as my daughter, and this letter shall be the last time that you will be addressed as so. My apologizes. Understand my decision kindly.

Nessarose has passed, so you would have been next in line. I cannot allow that. You have never wanted to become governess, regardless, so it would have been odd to let you take the position—one you would not take pride in.

I do believe that you mother's third or second step-cousin will become governess when I die, and I approve of her. She had always been a responsible young woman.

We will, of course, see each other at your trial, but I don't think we shall ever talk properly again. When you finish your first year at Shiz, I would like you to move out, and I'm sure you would like to as well. After all, I always had a feeling that the only thing that kept you home was Nessarose. And now that she will nevermore grace the world with her beauty, there is certainly nothing keeping you from leaving and never coming back.

I have enclosed with the letter some money to help you get an apartment in the Emerald City, or wherever you're going. I hope it will be sufficient enough to help you get started until you can find yourself a decent job. I have also sent a few large packages of your personal items, such as clothing. They should arrive a few days after this letter.

There should also be a smaller package, and it may have already come with this letter. I was hesitant in sending it, but it was what Nessarose would have wanted. She told me so if anything ever happened to her. At the time I had thought it petty, that she would never be gone from this world before me. But now I see that I was wrong, and that I should respect her wishes like any good father should. They are, after all, of no particular use to me. They harbor no more happy memories.

I now realize that I was wrong when raising you. Maybe if your mother had lived, my only daughter, things would have been different. Part of me wants you in Southstairs, for the possible murder of dear Nessarose, and part of me thinks different. I don't know which to believe anymore, but I hope you will keep this letter as a reminder of me, even if it hurts.

Your father,

Frexspar Thropp.

Galinda's first reaction was shock. The letter fluttered feebly from her open hand, and she sat very slowly down upon her pink bed. In the corner of her eye, she saw the little rectangular package, the ink dotted with what now she was sure were tears. Dare she open it? No, she'd let Elphaba. It was, after all, from her poor sister.

How could Nessarose be dead? All the worry and fear Galinda had harbored had banked on Nessarose's testimony once she had awakened. Even if Elphaba had been put into Southstairs, when Nessarose awoke she could have gotten her sister out. Now the pressure was more immense; the one person that could testify with the truth was gone forever.

Galinda's hand was shaking violently. What would happen to Elphaba now? Maybe the green girl's best chance at escaping prison was to run. Maybe Elphaba's leaving would be the smartest? She could live where the Wizard came from, if they could find the way there?

Galinda sat for ten minutes, filling her head with various scenarios of what she could do to help her roommate. She wasn't sure of anything she considered; it seemed to resemble the workings of a pipedream and it all seemed amazingly impossible.

The door to the dorm room clicked open, and Elphaba stepped inside, looking irritable as ever. Galinda hastily grabbed the note off of the floor, and slipped it back into the envelope, as if it were her own message from home.

"Is there any mail for me?" Elphaba asked, tossing a crusty black book onto her bed.

Galinda shook her head and fought to look convincing, despite the fact that Elphaba's worst fear now lay cupped inside her hand. . . .

"Looks like nothing new, Elphie. I just got something from home about whether I'm doing well or not. They think I'm an emotionless robot, I tell you, the things they say." And she tried a smile.

Judging by Elphaba's facial expression, though, Galinda's smile was far from natural. Her lopsided grin faltered and she stuffed the letter away. "Like I said, Elphaba: the things they say . . . um, write." And she busied herself with straightening her cluttered desk to avoid Elphaba's stare.

"Now," Galinda murmured next, gaze still fixated on her workspace, "I think that today we should have a bonfire or something."

From the corner of her eye, Galinda could see Elphaba's eyebrow rising. "A little random, Miss Galinda?"

Galinda gulped; Elphaba only addressed Galinda with an honorific before her name when she was either irritated or suspicious. It wasn't a good sign, and Galinda attempted to calm her pounding heart as she responded:

"Well, randomness makes the world go 'round," she squeaked. "Anyway, I've been wanting to do something nice with you all week!"

"You don't do nice things unless you feel sorry for someone," said Elphaba spitefully.

Galinda didn't say anything else about the subject, but nonetheless prepared for a bonfire to happen that night.

When she met up with Fiyero later that day, Galinda told him all about the note.

"Galinda, was it really necessary to go through Elphaba's mail?" he asked.

"But, dearest, if I hadn't, Elphaba wouldn't have been prepared for to news—you see, I'm going to make her ready. This will be in semi-darkness, she will be reasonably tired, and she might not be able to read the letter that entirely well. . . ."

Fiyero raised an eyebrow.

Galinda frowned. "Okay so I just want to be there with her, knowing what it says when she has to realize the truth," Galinda said sadly. "If I didn't know what it said, what would I do when she started sobbing? I'd probably ask, 'Oh, Elphaba, what's the matter?' That wouldn't have been very, um, encouraging."

Fiyero sighed, but didn't say anything more on the matter, and Galinda left the scene in a huff.

For the rest of the day, Galinda was worrying, consulting all of her dear friends about what to do, and getting together some nice remedial items together for their bonfire. She had read somewhere that a soothing scent of lavender helped calm the mind, body and soul, but she daren't use it in case of providing the wrong idea to Elphaba, who tended to jump to outrageous conclusions.

In one small act of desperation, she even consulted Avaric, but to no avail. He was no help at all, a complete ignoramus, for her was still irritated at Elphaba for not returning the apparent attraction, as she claimed. It was irritating, and Galinda honestly wished Elphaba would get over herself.

Soon, though, she was ready with a small basket and a determined smile on her face. Within the woven basket, was the letter, all nice and closed sealed, like the blonde girl found it. She feared what Elphaba would say when she realized that Galinda must have read it, but wouldn't let it worry her.

When Elphaba finally came into the dorm room from Oz-knows-where, Galinda ran up to her and snatched her cloak away from her. "We're having a bonfire, if you remember," she said, a bit intently, fighting to keep her voice under control.

"I'm not going to have a bonfire with you, Galinda," Elphaba snapped. "One, it's most likely illegal, two, the last time I was to do something 'fun' with you, you managed to land me a date with Avaric, to which I admit was horrible."

"Oh, no!" Galinda said. "This will be just you and me! Not even Yero will be there!"

"Oh, good Oz, you've given him a pet-name."

"It will be soothing, relaxing—"

"That's what you claimed about the picnic," said Elphaba. "No."

Elphaba began to walk away, but Galinda hiked up her skirt and gave a small jump, wrapping her arms around Elphaba's neck. Elphaba coughed once, and then managed to unlock Galinda's fingers. "What the f—!"

"Language!" Galinda said loudly.

"Well what was that?" Elphaba asked, equally loud.

"I just really need to talk to you, Elphaba," she said desperately, wringing her fingers together. "Something really important, and don't you dare accuse me of be melodramatic, because nothing about this specific situation can be down-played, so please come and have a bonfire with me!" She stared defiantly into Elphaba's muddy brown eyes, and challenged her silently to disagree. Apparently, Elphaba sensed somehow that if she decided to deny, Galinda would wring her throat, so the green girl's head nodded slowly.

Quickly the two migrated to a secluded spot in a quiet field, night closing in slowly. It was just after twilight when Galinda hesitantly pulled out the note, sitting opposite of Elphaba, the growing fire between them.

"So," she began, "I sort of went through your mail this morning." She winced, waiting for the storm, but Elphaba didn't say anything. She nodded for Galinda to continue and opened her mouth to comment, but then closed it.

"It's not good, Elphaba, and I won't judge you for being upset—I would be upset." Galinda paused, scared, holding the small rectangle of paper inches from the orange flames. An impulse struck her, one to throw the letter within them. . . .

"It's from your father," Galinda said, and Elphaba paused where she was, her hands poised stiffly on her skirt. She seemed to burn with anticipation, and a moment later she moved closer, closer to Galinda, trying to peer at her through the fire, which had grown past their vision in their sitting position.

"You might want to read it for yourself," Galinda whispered, and passed the letter around the fire.

Galinda might have died and gone to heaven within the moments that Elphaba read her letter. She could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest, pounding against her ribcage. She nervously played with her hair, twirling it around her finger, and watched Elphaba stiffen, relax, breathe, lick her lip, put her hand to her mouth. . . .

Suddenly, all too fast for Galinda's mind to handle, Elphaba shrieked in pain, pulling her hand out of the orange flames. Galinda's caught a glimpse of burned, pink skin, tears sparkling beneath coal dark hair, and then Elphaba was gone, fading into darkness.

The blonde acted past, scooping up the fallen letter, and kicking off her high-heeled shoes. Then, without a second thought, she ran after her friend as fast as she could push herself, leaving the flames behind her, flickering, crackling in the night.