Esther’s POV
The letter sat on my desk like a snake coiled in silence, daring me to touch it. My pulse had already stuttered once when I spotted the seal, its wax gleaming faintly in the early morning light. My name wasn’t on the front—not my real one, anyway. It never was. Instead, the elegant script read only: Dr. E. Arden. The pseudonym I had hidden behind for years, my mask and shield, my armor against the people who would tear me apart if they knew the truth.
It shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t have opened it. Every year, I made myself a silent promise: destroy all letters, invitations, and reminders of a world I couldn’t safely inhabit. Burn them. Bury them. Pretend they didn’t exist.
But my fingers… they itched with curiosity, a reckless, ungrateful part of me tha
