Letters from the future
It had no label, no obvious purpose—but it had called to her in the same way the letters did.
After school, while Eli went to check out more notes for their project, Ava slipped away. The hallway seemed impossibly long, echoing her every footstep. She approached her mom’s study, heart pounding. The door was slightly ajar. Perfect.
Inside, the room smelled of old books and polished wood. Shadows from the late afternoon sun stretched across the floor. Her mom’s desk was a mess of papers, notebooks, and photographs. Ava moved quickly, scanning for anything unusual. That’s when she saw it: a small envelope, tucked beneath a stack of letters and bills, marked with her name.