"Some people meet by chance. We met through ink."The letters were never signed with a real name, yet each one knew me better than the last. They remembered birthdays I had forgotten, dreams I had buried, and fears I had never spoken aloud. At first, I thought I had found a stranger who understood me. Then I realized something terrifying—They weren't learning about my life.They had already lived it with me.Every letter brought me closer to the truth, and every truth came with a price. By the time I discovered who my pen pal really was, walking away was no longer an option.Some friendships are written in ink.Mine was written in secrets.