The envelope jammed in Wren's mailbox wasn't hers. Same street, wrong number: 14 instead of 41, the digits swapped by some tired hand at the sorting office. It was addressed to a woman named Cordelia, in looping handwriting. Inside, a letter began, 'Darling, I know it's been too long, and I owe you the truth.' Wren stood on her steps, holding a stranger's letter, not sure what to do.

Wren knew she shouldn't read more, but the first line had hooked her. She read the whole letter at her kitchen table. It was from someone named Theo, apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye three years ago. There was no return address, just a small drawing of a paper boat at the bottom. Wren felt like she'd stepped into someone else's life.

Wren couldn't shake the paper boat drawing. She drew her own boat on a card and wrote: 'Your letter reached the wrong house, but it reached a kind stranger. Whatever you're sorry for, it sounds like you mean it.' She didn't have an address, so she pinned it to her fridge, half-hoping fate would find a way.