OLIVIA’S POVOn a Thursday afternoon, the notes arrived. Not through any digital channel. Not through the social media message that Elena had sent the first time, the one that had arrived on my phone with its careful phrasing and its woman to woman appeal that I had screenshot and shown to Jaden and eventually acted on at a café in the west side of the city.This was different.A handwritten envelope. My name on the front in handwriting that was neat and deliberate, the handwriting of someone who had been taught to write properly and had maintained the habit. Delivered to the house address by what Clara told me was a private courier service, not a standard delivery company, the kind that charged considerably more because what they were actually selling was discretion.I picked it up from the hall table where Clara had left it.Looked at my name on the front.Turned it over.No return address.I opened it in the sitting room.The note was three paragraphs.Written on heavy paper. The
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