April 12th, 1940.

{Writing}

Dear, Harry:

Eli came again today. He asked for you and wondered if you've wrote back.
I of course, said no. He didn't seem so surprised, since it's always the same answer. He does want to know if you're okay, or if you're hurt or anything. I told him not worry, and that I'm sure you're fine.

Though, it makes myself question whether or not you're okay as well; But I know that you are. It has been hard these past few months, and I know you're fighting your bum off, day and night. Maybe not night, because you might be asleep at that time. I honestly wonder if you lot even sleep.

But besides my bloody wondering, I know that if I just be patient, set my mind at ease and just wait, I probably won't worry too much anymore. Even though it might not work, I will have to try. I think I have written enough. I don't want you to read too much in this letter. I love you, Haz.

Love, Louis.