Amara's POV
The letter arrived on a Tuesday.
I knew it was from the foundation before I opened it. The envelope was navy and white, the Hope Foundation logo in the upper left corner, clean and precise and exactly as it had looked on the website I had spent three weeks telling myself I wasn't going to visit before visiting it anyway.
I had been expecting it.
I had been expecting it the way you expect something you have been dreading and anticipating in equal measure, checking the mailbox with the particular combination of hope and terror that belongs exclusively to the category of things that can either save you or destroy you depending on which way they land.
I stood in the hallway of our building with the letter in my hand and the mailbox still open behind me and listened to the radi
