I'm still surprised they found Rebecca. On second thought, that's not entirely accurate. After all I've expected something to go wrong, for Rebecca to be found, since I sank the boat. No, to be more precise I am surprised they found her now, of all times. It's been months since I remarried, but Rebecca returns now, right after a new Manderley party? Touché, my dear. No doubt you felt the Manderley party couldn't be without you making an appearance. How very, very like you, Rebecca.

Now I'm faced with a horrible choice. My second wife is getting suspicious, showing signs she's starting to piece the puzzle together. But by the time she figures it out I may have already joined Rebecca. (Try not to think about how that meeting would go, old boy.) However, the alternative is that I tell her. But that way lies madness. What fool would want to stay by a murderer's side? What is there to be gained? And worse still, what if she goes to the police and tells them what she knows? Even now she might; she's certainly got something, if not the whole story. No, I need her, but how to gain her allegiance…?


Surely she loves me, though by now she doubts my love for her. Would it not be prudent to simply confess my love for her and my hatred of Rebecca at the same time? Surely the joy of knowing for certain will keep her by me through this.

Because quiet though the girl is, she possesses no particularly powerful intelligence, no shrewdness or deductive reasoning. She sees with her heart. She will believe I hated Rebecca. As I did.

But she will also believe I love her if I but say so. She will never once doubt me as I whisper sweet nothings to her. She will not open her eyes…she will never realize that I have never truly loved her.