I found it on a Thursday.

Tucked inside a copy of Rebecca Ross on Granny Elizabeth’s bookshelf. I’d been searching for old recipe notes, something to distract me from the quiet that had become our new normal. But the letter changed everything.

It was addressed to me.

In Eliora’s handwriting.

"To the sister who became me."

I stared at the envelope for a long time before opening it.

Not out of fear.

But because a part of me still expected poison, even in her parting words.

I peeled ...