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 tucked the letter back in its envelope and felt guilty for reading it. She set it on her shelf, meaning to drop it at the post office's lost-letter desk the next day. But that night a knock came at her door. A woman stood there, out of breath. 'I think you have my letter,' she said. 'I'm Cordelia.'

Wren handed Cordelia the letter and watched her read it on the doorstep, tears rolling down. 'He's apologizing,' Cordelia whispered. 'I waited so long to hear this.' She looked up at Wren, grateful. 'Would you come with me to find him? I don't think I can knock on his door alone.' Wren said yes before she could think twice.