It started with a letter.
Cassie found it tucked between the pages of a book in her library, her own book, Unwritten Pages, the second edition. She flipped it open absentmindedly, expecting her own notes, but instead… there it was.
A pale envelope, her name written in familiar, steady cursive: Cassandra.
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened them.
My dearest daughter,
If you’re reading this, it means I’ve run out of time to say what I should have said long ago.
There are things I never told you. Not out of pride. Out of fear. And that fear kept me from knowing you in the way you deserved.
But the legacy you’re building? It’s everything I hoped mine could have been if I had chosen love sooner.
This final gift isn’t just money. It’s space. It’s forgiveness. It’s a garden I never
