Sheila was busy tending to her garden when the sudden sound of her doorbell startled her.

'Huh? Who could that be?' Sheila wondered, since those who knew her were aware she hated being disturbed on Sundays.

'Maybe it's a salesman...' Sheila thought before continuing her gardening, choosing to ignore the unknown visitor.

A few minutes passed, and the doorbell rang again.

'Patience...'

And it rang again.

'They'll leave soon...'

Minutes went by, but the person persisted, ringing the doorbell every 2 or 3 minutes.

'How annoying! Can't they take a hint?' Sheila thought irritably as she finally finished sweeping the entire garden.

A part of her felt brief satisfaction at seeing her garden tidy, but her happiness was short-lived as the doorbell rang once more.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Sheila washed her hands and face before heading to the window beside her door.

Although she was somewhat annoyed, the thought that this person might need help made her try to put on a small smile.

"Good afternoon, sir... how can I help..."

Before Sheila could finish her sentence, the man said:

"Are you Miss Sheila Barker?"

Sheila Barker.

Hearing her name with that surname made her heart stop for a moment.

Disdain.

How many years had it been since someone had called her by that last name?

And worse.

How did this man know her old surname when she had legally changed it to Hart over 15 years ago thanks to her uncle?

Sheila was about to close the window to cut off all contact with the strange man, but upon examining his clothes...

Wasn't he just a deliveryman?

Analyzing the man's expression, she saw he was sweating profusely, having waited in the sun for several minutes. In one hand, he held a delivery receipt.

"Miss...?" the man asked nervously as Sheila stared at him in silence.

It looked like she was going to kill him.

"Who are you?" Sheila asked in a serious tone.

The deliveryman, turning confusedly behind him, didn't understand why the girl was speaking to him that way.

Had he done something wrong?

"I'm just a deliveryman, miss. I came here to deliver a letter to a woman named... Sheila Barker," the deliveryman said as he read from his delivery slip, which had a photo attached.

He just wanted to deliver a letter?

Seriously?

Who sends letters nowadays when there are phones and emails?

What kind of bad joke was this?

Sheila looked around the deliveryman to check if this was some hidden camera prank.

Nothing.

Once she confirmed there was no sign of any cameras, Sheila's gaze returned to the deliveryman.

It had been a long time since Sheila didn't know what to do.

"Sorry, but you've got the wrong person. I'm Sheila Hart, not Barker," Sheila explained in a calm tone.

The deliveryman, not knowing what else to say, apologized and walked back to his car, confused.

Had he really been given the wrong address?

Closing the window, despite her doubts, Sheila decided it was best not to accept or find out who had sent that letter, even though that person knew her real surname.

Maybe it was her family...?

No, that didn't make sense, as it had been years since she lost all contact with them after being sent to this country alone, to her uncle's house.

Trying to think of more possibilities, Sheila eventually decided to forget about it and return to her garden, which was almost full of medicinal plants.

The ones that weren't were plants she had cared for since she was a child, and it gave her a certain joy to see them slowly continue to grow.

Grabbing some leaves from her medicinal plants, Sheila left her garden and went upstairs to a room full of jars and books.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Sheila began to get into the zone.

She was now in her personal laboratory.

She needed to focus.

Placing the leaves on a plate that was on a table, Sheila grabbed one of the books and sat down to read.

'Barker... why would someone look for me using my old surname... that doesn't make sense,' Sheila thought a few minutes after sitting down to study.

Normally, she would be focused on trying to invent a new medicine, but...

Her mind kept wandering.

Believing it was something temporary, Sheila tried to concentrate again, but after a few minutes...

'If it's not them... who was it?'

Once again, her worries had won.

Realizing this, Sheila stood up angrily and started pacing in circles.

'Exercise is good for relaxing the body and mind. I just need to exercise... yes, that's why my mind is racing and I can't concentrate. I just need to walk...' Sheila thought as she kept pacing in circles, but still...

She couldn't calm down.

She felt anxious.

'Why did I tell him to leave!? I should have asked who the sender was first and then told him to leave.'

'I'm such an idiot, how could I make such a mistake?'

Minutes passed, and Sheila kept blaming herself for her mistake until...

Again.

Someone rang her doorbell again.

It was impossible that it was someone she knew, as her phone, which she kept in her pocket, hadn't received a single message.

Trying to leave things as orderly as possible before going downstairs, when Sheila looked out the window, she saw the same deliveryman again.

He looked tired.

"Good afternoon, miss... I'm really sorry if you're not Miss Barker, but..."

The deliveryman showed Sheila a photo that left her frozen and speechless.

It was her.

Without a doubt, it was her, but...

How did they get that photo?

The photo the deliveryman was showing Sheila was one where she was smiling, taken on the day she celebrated her uncle's birthday with several acquaintances.

'How...?' Sheila wondered as she tried to keep her composure.

"Miss...?" the deliveryman asked, visibly nervous at Sheila's reaction.

"Who sent you?" Sheila asked directly, closing her eyes.

She was angry.

"I can't say."

"You're telling me to accept a letter from someone I don't even know?" Sheila complained, still trying to stay calm.

"I'm very sorry if I offended you, miss, but those are the instructions I received."

"Then tell your sender that I won't accept their letter until they give me their name, or do you accept letters from strangers?" Sheila asked before closing the window.

'Who was it?' Sheila wondered repeatedly as she went back upstairs to her laboratory.

This time, Sheila didn't even try to concentrate on her work, as she directly started checking her phone.

Who leaked that photo?

'Emily... no... it's impossible she would do something like that, even if offered a million,' Sheila thought as she looked at her next contact.

'Adrian... no... he cared a lot about Grandpa and... I don't think...'

'Lucas... I don't think so...'

Despite checking contact after contact, Sheila ended up in the same place where she started.

"What a waste of time..." Sheila said disappointedly in a low voice as she put her phone away.

Suddenly, her stomach growled, prompting her to get up from her chair.

It was time to cook.

◇◆◇

"What?"

"She said she wouldn't accept the letter unless I gave her your name," the deliveryman repeated, thinking the girl hadn't heard him properly.

"Then tell her. Why didn't you? Are you an idiot?" the girl asked in a disdainful tone.

'I didn't say it because you ordered that it not be revealed...' the deliveryman thought but held back.

He couldn't go against a customer.

Never.

"I understand, I'll return to the house and deliver your letter."

"Good. You better not make another mistake like that or I'll tell your boss," the girl said before hanging up.

The deliveryman, who was sitting in a fast-food restaurant waiting for his meal, smiled as the waitress brought his food.

Yes, he was definitely going to deliver that letter, but he was going to do it after finishing his meal.

He had endured standing in the sun for several minutes and repeatedly calling that girl who only insulted him!

Now...

He just wanted to eat.

"Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," the waitress replied before leaving.

◇◆◇

After washing the dishes and leaving the kitchen clean, Sheila was about to lie down to rest when suddenly...

The doorbell.

Someone was ringing her doorbell again.

She wasn't even surprised anymore.

It was obvious it was the deliveryman.

Although she still hadn't solved the mystery of who had taken that photo, she hoped at least the deliveryman would reveal the name of the person sending her the letter.

If it was an unfamiliar name, she wouldn't hesitate to reject the letter.

But if it was someone from her family...

No.

That was impossible.

Too many years had passed for them to want to contact her now.

Opening the window, Sheila and the deliveryman exchanged looks.

For some reason, the deliveryman seemed a bit happier, and before Sheila could draw more conclusions...

"This is a letter from Miss Rita Barker."

As soon as the deliveryman said those words, Sheila frowned.