The Package That Spoke
The next morning arrived wrapped in eerie silence. No birdsong. No city hum. Just a stillness that felt like the calm before a flood.
Noah sat alone on the couch, hands clasped, still reeling from Anna’s expression the night before—one that had flickered between disbelief and disappointment. He hadn’t slept. He couldn’t. There were cracks forming in the fragile glass bridge they had just begun to rebuild.
The doorbell rang.
He got up slowly, still in his shirt from yesterday, and opened the door.
No one was there.
Only a small, matte-black box sat on the doorstep—neatly wrapped with a red ribbon.
His stomach twisted.
There was no card.
No address.
Just his name written on top in narrow, deliberate handwriting.
He brought it inside and carefully untied the
