She didn't know how to begin the letter, so she started simply.
My dearest Sebastian.
I'm sure you're over your little state now, and no longer sulking. I will assuage all of your fears in the next few sentences, so please read carefully. Sammi is alive. I have not been in contact with Petr for as long as I've been gone. I have not spoken a breath of you to any soul I've met or known.
I am in London. I have been dancing at the Royal Ballet School for the past few months, it's all rather easy...
That's a lie, it isn't easy at all. I am constantly out of breath and bruised from stumbling. The instructor has already put me en pointe. It is hard work. I think you can appreciate that, perhaps you'll even be amused that I am finally working hard for something. Tell Petr, won't you?
I never change with the other girls, I am not interested in answering questions about the large initials burned into my skin. I'm sure you'll understand.
I stay in the dorms at the school, and I have paid for Sammi to have a small apartment about an hour away. Obviously if her history were found out, I would not want it to seem that I have any affiliation to her. Nothing personal. She didn't seem to mind. I think she's gotten a job at a nearby tattoo parlour. Rather surprising artistic potential she's got, who would have known?
As far as my personal life goes, I find it strange and a bit difficult, I do not find the girls in my class at all bothersome, though many of them are a bit dull. I find myself making friends. I've never had friends before. Not proper friends.
Though I suppose I could consider you my closest friend of all.
Oh, and I might mention that I have been keeping an eye on Raven for you. Not that it's quite so difficult with her blossoming career. I suppose it will already have come to pass by the time you receive this letter but she purchased two tickets to the Ukraine this morning, and I do believe she intends to bring along her most current boy toy. I suppose she'll have told you they were never together.
Well, you're free to believe what you want.
In two weeks there will be a soloist showcase at the Royal Ballet theater here in London, previewing this season's shows and giving a little taste of each one. I will be dancing the opening solo from the third movement of Concerto. I was cast as understudy for the original soloist at the Royal Ballet, and she's injured herself -- I know what you're thinking, and I didn't touch her -- so enclosed in this envelope are two tickets to come see the performance. I'm sure you've got some girl with you, please feel free to bring her. The seats are a private box.
Sammi will be attending too, in a different section of the theater. We can all go out for supper and drinks afterwards.
I will be happy to see you again.
Until then, Dearest.
That was all. A longer letter overall than she'd intended. She folded the decorative stationary small to fit into the envelope, and tucked the two tickets alongisde it.
She knew he would come, there was not a single doubt in her mind. The same way she knew that sending the letter to Petr's P.O. box would still find it, unopened, in the hands of her dear hunter.