Harper's POV:My father's handwriting was on the envelope in my bedroom, which was impossible because I had watched him die six years ago and spent every year since believing he was dead.I could barely breathe as my fingers tightened around the paper because the letters were too familiar to mistake for anyone else's."That's my father," I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the handwriting.Hardin moved closer, his attention fixed on my face rather than the envelope. "Harper, are you sure?""I know his handwriting," I replied, tracing one of the letters with my eyes. "I grew up seeing it on bills, notes, grocery lists, everything, so I would recognize it anywhere."Hailey stepped forward and held out her hand. "Do not open it yet."I turned toward her sharply. "Why?""Because whoever left this wanted you to find it," she said, glancing toward the bedroom door. "We already know someone got inside this house, stole the card, and knew exactly where you kept it, so this could be another tra
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