Chapter 71 Letters In The Snow

• The morning after the tree lighting festival, the world lay hushed beneath a thick, glistening coat of snow. The silence wasn’t heavy—it was sacred. As if the earth itself had paused to listen.
• Lila woke early. Earlier than usual. Not to write or to worry, but to breathe. She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers curled around a steaming mug of coffee, and let the hush seep into her bones. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t running from the past or grasping toward a future. She was just here.
• A knock on her door interrupted the moment. Emma didn’t wait to be invited in—she never did.