Clara’s pov
The second letter arrived the same way the first one had, tucked under the napkin holder like it belonged there.
Marnie slid it across the counter during the mid-morning lull. “Another one. Same handwriting. You going to burn this one too, or actually read it this time?”
I stared at the envelope. My name in that same dark ink. No return address.
The new heat in my chest, the one that had nothing to do with the old bond, flared once, sharp enough that I had to set the coffee pot down before I dropped it.
“I’ll take it upstairs later,” I said.
Marnie raised an eyebrow. “Suit yourself. But whatever’s in those letters is clearly not done with you. You’ve been jumpy ever since the first one showed up.”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that. One of these days I’m going to stop b
