Elena’s POV
The envelope was small, almost timid in its presence among the stack of ordinary mail that had been slid under the door, bills, newsletters, the usual monotony, yet this one stood out, handwritten in looping letters that pressed too hard into the paper. I felt the raised grooves with my thumb, curious, my stomach tightening with that familiar blend of hope and apprehension.
I slit it open carefully, the way you do when you sense something fragile is tucked inside. The first lines were uneven, jagged, but achingly sincere.
Dear Elena Hart, I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. I don’t even know if fan mail gets to you, but I had to try. I was ready to give up last winter. I felt invisible, like nobody could see me for who I was. Then I read your book. The way your character
