Some mornings looked completely ordinary until they quietly changed everything.
Friday arrived beneath a clear autumn sky.
The sun rose gently over Westwood High.
Students crossed the courtyard carrying backpacks, books, and cups of hot coffee.
Nothing seemed unusual.
Nothing seemed different.
Yet somewhere nearby—
a small delivery van turned onto Noah's street.
---
The cream-colored envelope rested safely inside a leather mailbag.
Its journey was finally ending.
The mail carrier checked the addresses one by one.
Letters.
Magazines.
Packages.
Then—
one final envelope.
Mr. Noah Carter.
He smiled to himself.
"Last stop."
The van continued down the quiet neighborhood road.
---
Back at Westwood High—
Noah arrived earlier than usual.
He wasn't entirely sure why.
He simp
