The Letter That Refused To Stay Buried

She unfolded it slowly, although her hands would not stop shaking, and the moment her eyes landed on the familiar handwriting, something deep inside her seemed to give way all at once, as if a door she had kept locked for years had finally been forced open.

It was his writing.

Not similar. Not close.

It was unmistakably his.

Evelyn Carter lowered herself into the old wooden chair by the window because her legs had suddenly lost their strength, and outside, the steady rhythm of rain tapping against the porch roof seemed to press her forward, urging her to keep reading even as her breath came uneven and her fingers trembled so much that the paper nearly tore between them.

“Evelyn,

If this letter has reached you, it means I finally found a way to send it without putting Lila in danger. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I won’t pretend that silence like mine can be explained away, but please… read everything before you decide what I am to you now.”

She swallowed hard, pressing the page flat against her knee, as if grounding herself in something physical might stop the rush of memories threatening to pull her under.

“That day in Savannah… we didn’t disappear by chance.

We were taken.”