Two days later, I finally broke. I couldn’t fight it anymore. The piece of paper had been haunting me like a ghost, tucked away in my bedside drawer where I thought it would stay forgotten. But it never left me alone. Every time I changed clothes or reached for something inside that drawer, I’d see the folded edge peeking out, like it was daring me.

Tonight, I couldn’t ignore it. My hands trembled as I pulled it out, unfolding the creases slowly, almost reverently, as if it was more than ...