Marilena sifts through the usual stack of mail as she walks up the stairs to her apartment, barely noticing the familiar envelopes and advertisements. But as she steps inside and places her bag on the counter, one envelope catches her eye. It's a cream-colored envelope, elegant and understated, with no return address. Her heart skips a beat as she tears it open, curious and a bit apprehensive.
Inside is a single, neatly folded letter on fine stationery, and the handwriting is beautiful, refined, almost delicate. She unfolds the letter carefully and her breath catches when she sees the name signed at the bottom: Andrea.
