The letter arrived three days before they were scheduled to leave for the Eastern Compound.
It was old. Yellowed. Hidden in the pages of a book Sera hadn't opened in years — a collection of her mother's poetry, pages soft with age, the ink faded to brown. The book had been on her shelf since the exile, untouched, a relic of the life she'd left behind. She'd never thought to look inside. Had never wanted to. The sight of her mother's handwriting, even now, could reduce her to tears without warning.
The handwriting was familiar — her mother's handwriting, the elegant script she'd used for everything from shopping lists to love letters. But the words were unexpected. Unsettling. A message from beyond the grave that changed everything.
*My dearest Sera,*
*If you're reading this, then I'm g
