Amara barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that stark message burned into her mind. Stop reading the letters.
By morning, the warning note was tucked safely into her journal, hidden between its pages. She told herself she should stop that her mother's fear, the sudden threat, all of it meant danger. But the box beneath her bed seemed to hum, pulling at her, demanding to be opened again.
Her grandmother's words weren't finished.
With trembling hands, Amara untied the ribbon around the letters and slid out the next envelope. The date in the corner read March 2004.
Her chest tightened as she unfolded the delicate paper.
My dearest Amara,
If your hands hold these words, it means the truth is pressing against you, and I can no longer shield you from it. You must know because lies rot the soul, and silence is its cruel companion.
Jonas was not just a man I loved. He was the fire that consumed me, the shadow that followed even when I turned away. Loving him was the sweetest sin and the deepest wound. I thought he would save me, but instead he left scars I still carry.
He betrayed me, Amara. He betrayed us all.
Amara's throat went dry. She leaned closer, her eyes scanning every word.
I should have walked away when I first learned who he truly was. But love is blind, foolish, and desperate. He had secrets, dark ones, tied to people who would kill to keep them. By the time I understood, it was too late. He had already taken something I could never reclaim. He had already made me choose between love and blood.
Her hand tightened around the page. Love and blood. What did her grandmother mean?
The next lines made her skin prickle.
Jonas does not forgive. Jonas does not forget. He will carry his hunger into eternity if he must. And if ever his shadow falls across your path, you must do what I could not you must run.
Amara pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat thundering. Hunger? Eternity? What kind of man was Jonas, that her grandmother would describe him this way?
She read the letter again, slower this time, letting every word sink in. Betrayal. Secrets. People who would kill to keep them. And her grandmother's fear, etched into every stroke of ink, even after all those years.
Amara stared at the box of remaining letters, her body trembling with a war between terror and curiosity. She could stop now. Pretend she'd never opened them. Pretend she hadn't seen Jonas's face or her grandmother's warnings.
But she knew she wouldn't stop. She couldn't.
Because deep down, she already felt the truth Jonas's shadow wasn't just her grandmother's burden anymore.
It was hers.
A sudden knock rattled the front door, sharp and unexpected. Amara jumped, the letter slipping from her fingers. Her pulse raced as she sat frozen, staring toward the sound.
Another knock. Louder this time.
And then silence.
She crept toward the window, heart pounding, but when she peered outside, the porch was empty. No footsteps. No figure retreating down the path.
Only an envelope resting neatly against the doorframe.