She knows exactly who the note is from, the letters on the card standing out like a chapter titles in the novel that is her life. She ruminates, turning it over and over, as if she could turn the page and have the words change. But novels don't work that way, and neither does life.
She considers contacting Kellan, but her last request of him pushed boundaries and crossed lines that she knows he wasn't pleased with, and he can't always be expected to do her work for her. There is no payment with the card, and without advance funding she won't approach Kellan, she won't ask that favor of the tarnished hero in flames. This is business, what they do is business, and certain lines are not meant to be crossed.
She tucks the card away, and she reaches for Wuthering Heights, seeking solace in the pages and the letters printed there, as if she can will away the future and the choice she must make.