One quiet morning, as the sun slipped through the thin curtains, a letter arrived. She heard the familiar knock at the door, the postman’s routine gesture that often carried the possibility of joy, news, or connection. Her heart leapt at the sight of the envelope, for she had been waiting so long for a word from him. She held her breath as she turned it over in her hands, imagining his handwriting, his words, the comfort of his presence tucked between the folds of paper.