Emily's POV.

The letter came in the middle of the afternoon, slipping through the mail slot like it didn’t belong…no return address, no identification at all. I didn’t even have to open it to feel the weight of its presence. My stomach twisted. I didn’t need to know who it was from; I already had a sinking feeling in my gut.

I reached down and picked it up slowly, holding the plain envelope in my hands. The paper was thin, the kind that felt wrong between your fingers…almost too soft, too delicate. It didn’t fit. Not with everything that had happened. Not with everything I’d gone through.

I ripped open...