Selene couldn’t shake the feeling that her cottage wasn’t as empty as it seemed. The chime of the clock still echoed in her ears, unnatural in the otherwise quiet room. She moved cautiously, her eyes darting to the windows and the corners of the room as though something might reveal itself.


    But there was nothing—only the faint ticking of the clock that had been broken for weeks.


    She sank into her chair at the kitchen table, her fingers gripping the edges tightly. She hated how unsettled she felt. She hated even more how easily the letter had wormed its way into her mind.


    Reaching out, she touched the paper again, almost expecting it to be warm to the touch, but it wasn’t. It was just a letter—ordinary and harmless. But the words it carried? They were anything but ordinary.


    "The answers you seek are closer than you think."


    Selene frowned, tapping the pen on her notebook as she reread the sentences she had copied down. She wasn’t one to let riddles or cryptic messages consume her. In her past life—the one she’d left behind—she had been good at logic and clarity, qualities that had kept her grounded.


    But this wasn’t logical.


    The clock had come to life. The letters had appeared without any trace of their sender. And the words… the words felt as though they had been carved from her soul.


    Selene shut the notebook abruptly and stood, determined to break free from the spiral of her thoughts.


    She pulled on her coat and boots, grabbing her keys before stepping outside. The cold air hit her like a slap, its sharpness chasing away the lingering haze of unease.


    The forest around her was still, the ground glistening with frost. She kept her eyes on the narrow path leading toward town, her boots crunching against the frozen earth.


    “Get a grip,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s just some random person messing with you.”


    But deep down, she didn’t believe that.


    The town of Maple Grove was as quiet as ever, its streets lined with bare trees and shuttered shops. Selene’s first stop was the small library nestled between the bakery and a hardware store. If anyone could help her figure out where the letters had come from, it was Edith Sinclair, the librarian and unofficial keeper of the town’s secrets.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Edith was sitting behind the counter, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she flipped through a weathered book. She looked up as Selene entered, a smile breaking across her wrinkled face.


    “Well, if it isn’t our hermit,” Edith teased, her tone warm. “I was starting to think you’d disappeared completely.”


    Selene forced a smile. “Still here. Just… needed some space.”


    Edith nodded knowingly, her gaze lingering for a moment before she closed the book in front of her. “What can I do for you today?”


    Selene hesitated, unsure how to phrase her request. “I, uh… have you ever heard of someone leaving letters without a return address? Hand-delivered?”


    The older woman tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Letters? What kind of letters?”


    “Personal ones. Cryptic.” Selene kept her tone casual, though her grip on the counter betrayed her tension.


    Edith leaned back in her chair, tapping a finger against her chin. “Can’t say I’ve heard of anyone doing that around here. It’s a small town, Selene. Most people don’t bother with subtlety when they want to say something.”


    Selene nodded, feigning nonchalance. “Right. Just thought I’d ask.”


    Edith’s gaze sharpened, her expression shifting to something more serious. “Are you alright? You seem… unsettled.”


    “I’m fine,” Selene said quickly, a little too quickly. She shifted her weight and glanced toward the rows of bookshelves. “Thanks for the help, though. I should probably grab a few books while I’m here.”


    Edith didn’t press, though her eyes followed Selene as she moved into the stacks.


    Selene’s search for distraction didn’t last long. She scanned a few spines without really seeing them before giving up entirely. On her way back to the counter, her eye caught on a small corkboard near the exit, cluttered with notes and flyers.


    Her gaze snagged on one in particular—a scrap of paper with faded edges and handwritten text.


    “Every question begins with silence.


    Every silence holds a secret.”


    Selene frowned, her heart skipping a beat. The handwriting wasn’t exactly the same as the letters, but it had a similar elegance, the kind of deliberate strokes that hinted at care. She pulled the flyer down and studied it, but there was no other information. No author, no purpose. Just the words.


    “Something wrong?”


    Edith’s voice startled her, and Selene turned sharply, clutching the paper to her chest. “No. Just… interesting quote.”


    Edith glanced at the flyer and chuckled. “That’s been up there for months. Some artist left it during the town fair last spring. Thought it was strange, but people seemed to like it.”


    Selene nodded absently, folding the paper and tucking it into her pocket.


    By the time she returned to her cottage, the late afternoon light had begun to fade, casting long shadows across the yard. The unease that had momentarily lifted returned in full force as she climbed the steps and reached for the door.


    A third envelope was waiting for her, this one propped against the doorframe as though it had been left just minutes before.


    Selene’s heart sank. Whoever E was, they weren’t going to stop.