( read it )
KOTL : Pure Chaos
It says :
Dear Phelps, I hope you find your way to the fruit. If you don’t, I will just have to stare at your skeleton ripe. These other skeletons mean something. Everyone who comes near that tree dies tasting the wrong fruit.
- Penelope, 19th August, 1836
The bag has :
A rusty double-barrel
An envelope