Chapter 1
The first letter appeared on my desk on a Monday morning.
No name.
No envelope.
Just three words written across a folded piece of paper:
I remember you.
I stared at it for almost a minute.
I didn’t know what it meant.
I hadn’t told anyone about the thing I was trying so hard to forget.
I looked around the classroom.
Everyone was busy getting ready for the first lesson.
Except Nia.
She was sitting two rows behind me, staring at her phone.
I quickly folded the letter and slipped it into my notebook.
Maybe it was a joke.
Maybe someone had the wrong person.
I tried to forget about it.
Until another letter appeared after lunch.
This one said:
You still tap your pen three times when you’re nervous.
My heart stopped.
Because that wasn’t something people noticed.
That was something she used to notice.
And she had promised she’d never come back.
I looked up.
Nia was standing at the classroom door.
And she was looking directly at me.
END OF PART ONE.
Who do you think is writing the letters? 👀💌
