Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly into thirds. My heart pounded as I unfolded it, each crease revealing part of a message I hoped would be salvation. It was difficult to keep my expectations in check, knowing how things had turned out so far. But the weight of the paper felt significant, like an anchor in the tumultuous sea my life had become. As I smoothed it out, I recognized my mother-in-law’s familiar, looping handwriting.
“My Dearest Elena,” it began, and my throat tightened at the sight of my name written by her hand. She’d always been meticulous about even the smallest notes, and this was no different. It felt like she was speaking directly to me, cutting through the noise of betrayal and confusion that had filled the past few days.
“I know this must be very difficult for you,” she continued. “And I am sorry for the pain my decisions have caused. But I trust that you are strong enough to understand and move forward.”
