Dear Journal,

It’s been an eventful few days. I no longer believe that anything will faze me. Not after I removed Monty’s blown up and mangled ear from his head. I think I’m in a state of shock. I don’t think I have ever been as frantic or terrified for Monty as I have at that moment. I truly wasn’t sure if he would male it. He’s asleep now, as he has been for the past three days, but he’s alive. And honestly, he’s lucky that the gunpowder didn’t wreck his eyes as well. I can’t help but fear for the future. Will we head back to London? What will mother and father say? Will we stay with Scipio and travel alongside him? What will become of us if we head in different directions, pursuing different things? I know that at the beginning of the summer, I would have been glad to separate from Monty and Percy. Now, however, I don’t know what to do without them. There are so many what-ifs, yet somehow, even after everything that has occurred, I have no regrets.

This will likely be my last entry.

Signing off,

Felicity Montague