In a very practiced motion, Shepard reaches over to the bedside, placing her hand flat on the back of the note and picking it up so it rests against the inside of her palm, facing only the wall. The Queen knew who she was talking to- she could see through the mirror, or something else. If she's going to lie here with any effectiveness, she needs to be careful. She shifts, propping the mirror up on the bed, and looks between it as she writes, as if being sure to copy exactly.

"Make use of this. Do what you know you must."
That's it.

She pauses, and puts the note in her pocket.

So I'm not your thief.
But it sounds like somebody is.