Selene awoke to the sound of branches tapping against her window, the wind restless in the early morning hours. For a moment, she stayed in bed, staring at the faint light creeping through the curtains. She’d slept little, her mind haunted by the letter and the questions it raised.


    “Forget it,” she told herself firmly, sitting up and pulling on her woolen socks. It was just a note, probably left by someone with too much time on their hands. Nothing more.


    She repeated the mantra as she made her way to the kitchen. The envelope remained locked in the drawer where she’d left it, and she intended to keep it that way.


    But as the kettle whistled and the comforting scent of tea filled the air, her resolve faltered. The words had stuck with her: “The ache in your heart, the memories that chain you to yesterday.”


    Selene stared out the window as she sipped her tea, the forest beyond her home cast in shades of gray. The cottage was her sanctuary, a place she’d fled to after everything fell apart. No one was supposed to find her here. Yet somehow, someone had.


    Her fingers tightened around the mug.


    Memories she’d worked hard to suppress began to stir, like shadows creeping into her thoughts. The restless nights, the silent weight of guilt and regret. Whoever had written that letter, they’d seen her pain—her real pain.


    But how?


    The thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. She shook her head, setting her mug down with more force than necessary.


    “I’m being ridiculous,” she muttered, trying to shake off the unease. “It’s nothing.”


    But when she stepped outside later that morning, the unease returned tenfold. Another envelope lay on the steps, pristine and untouched by the wind.


    Her stomach dropped.


    This time, Selene didn’t hesitate. She scanned the treeline, her breath visible in the cold air. There were no footprints, no sign of anyone having been there. Her cottage was set back from the main road, surrounded by trees on all sides. It wasn’t a place people stumbled upon by accident.Stolen novel; please report.


    Gripping the envelope tightly, she stepped back inside and bolted the door.


    The second letter felt heavier than the first, though it was just as light. She placed it on the counter, staring at it as though it might reveal its secrets on its own. Her heart thudded in her chest.


    “Don’t open it,” she whispered, her voice trembling.


    But she already knew she would. The need to know outweighed her fear. Slowly, she slid the paper free, her hands shaking slightly.


    "The answers you seek are closer than you think.


    Do not fear the questions—they are the path to freedom.


    Trust is not given—it is earned.


    Step forward, Selene.


    Yours,


    E."


    Selene let out a sharp breath, her grip tightening on the letter. It wasn’t just the cryptic message that rattled her—it was the handwriting. It was exactly the same as the first letter, every loop and curve identical.


    This wasn’t someone dashing off a note on a whim. Whoever E was, they had taken their time, and that made it worse.


    She placed the letter down and paced the kitchen, the floor creaking under her weight.


    “This is insane,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “What does this person want?”


    A part of her wanted to burn the letter, to destroy it and pretend none of this was happening. But another part of her—the part that whispered late at night when she couldn’t sleep—urged her to dig deeper.


    The words lingered in her mind: “The answers you seek are closer than you think.”


    Selene stared at the drawer where the first letter was locked away. Against her better judgment, she opened it, pulling out the envelope and setting it beside the new one.


    The handwriting was the same, down to the smallest detail.


    She grabbed a notebook and began jotting down the messages, hoping to make sense of them:


    <ol>


    <li>There is a reason for it all.</li>


    <li>The answers you seek are closer than you think.</li>


    <li>Trust is not given—it is earned.</li>


    </ol>


    It felt like a riddle, one she didn’t have the key to.


    “Why me?” she whispered, running her fingers over the edge of the second envelope.


    Her thoughts were interrupted by the faint chime of the clock on the wall. She glanced at it, startled—it had been broken for weeks, stuck at 11:47. Now, the second hand ticked forward, slow and deliberate.


    Selene froze, her blood turning cold.


    She stepped closer to the clock, staring at it as the hands moved in perfect rhythm. There was no explanation for it, no logical reason it should be working again.


    The feeling of being watched crept over her, and she turned sharply, scanning the room. Nothing was out of place, but the air felt heavier, as though someone—or something—was there with her.


    She backed away slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. For the first time, she wondered if leaving Maple Grove might not have been far enough.