Rach,
I don’t even know why I’m writing this. It’s not like you can read it. Not like you can roll your eyes at me for being dramatic or call me a dork for getting all in my feelings. But maybe this is the only way I can get the words out. Maybe this is the only way I can tell you what I should’ve told you a long time ago.
You’re gone. I mean, I’ve known that for a while now, but it still doesn’t feel real. I spent so much time hoping—praying, even—that you were out there somewhere, living your best life, far away from this fucked-up town. Turns out you never even got the chance. Turns out the whole time I was looking for you, you were already buried under a pile of dirt, just like another one of Arcadia Bay’s secrets.
And I hate it. I fucking hate it.
I read your letter. The one you left for me. The one you never gave me. And, yeah, I freaked. Not because you were into Jefferson—God, Rach, if I’d known, if I’d even suspected, maybe I could’ve stopped you. Maybe I could’ve done something. Anything. But that’s not why I freaked. I freaked because it made me realize just how little I actually knew you.
I spent so much time worshipping this idea of you, like you were this perfect, untouchable badass who had everything figured out. But you weren’t. You had secrets. You had dreams I wasn’t a part of. You were running just like me, just in a different direction. And maybe that’s the part that hurts the most—knowing that even if Jefferson and Nathan hadn’t taken you away, you were already leaving.
But I don’t blame you. How could I? You deserved better than Arcadia Bay. You deserved better than all of it.
Max and I—we made it out. I don’t know where we’re going yet, but we just drove. Away from the wreckage, away from everything. The whole town is gone, Rachel. Just gone. And I know it’s fucked up, but part of me thinks maybe it deserved to be. Maybe Arcadia Bay was always doomed. Maybe it was nothing but ghosts and lies and people who would rather bury the truth than face it.
But you weren’t just a ghost. You were my best friend. And I don’t want to remember you with that sad, mushy shit anymore. You meant too much to me for that.
Max… she really helps. She reminds me that the past doesn’t have to be a weight I carry forever. That even though you’re gone, what we had was real. And that’s what I’m gonna hold on to—not the pain, not the anger, just you. The way you laughed, the way you dreamed, the way you made me feel like I wasn’t just some fuck-up who was never gonna make it out.
I’ll always miss you, Rachel. But I know now that missing you doesn’t mean I have to be stuck in the past. You’d hate that. You’d tell me to get out there and actually live. So I will. One day, I’ll be able to think of you and just smile.
I hope, wherever you are, it’s better than here.
I hope you finally got out.
Goodbye, Angel.
I love you.
Chloe