It should be fully dark by the time Dad gets back, and all I can do is hope he won’t notice there’s outgoing mail.
 
 Holding my breath, I close the mailbox and wonder how long until Nathan gets it and writes back.
 
 Dear Nathan,
 
 I’m sorry too. I never even asked you how you felt about moving.
 
 And I’m sorry for crying so much. And for not saying goodbye.
 
 I wish I would have asked you for a hug before you left.
 
 A hug would be really nice.
 
 I hope your new house is nice.
 
 If you send me your new phone number, I can call you. But don’t call me. My dad won’t like that.
 
 I miss you.
 
 Your best friend,
 
 Rosie
 
 My fingers tremble as I reach into the mailbox.
 
 I’ve checked it every single day since I mailed my letter to Nathan, getting more and more defeated as each day passes without a response.
 
 But this time, an envelope sticks out from the rest.
 
 It’s the same size as the one I sent him.
 
 It must be…
 
 I drag the rectangle out of the stack of mail.
 
 It’s upside down.
 
 Holding it on either side, I twist it in my fingers until the top side is up.
 
 But it’s not addressedtome. It’s addressedbyme.
 
 UNDELIVERABLE
 
 I blink at the bold red letters stamped across the front of the envelope.
 
 Undeliverable.
 
 No.
 
 Something inside me breaks.
 
 Please no.
 
 I slam the mailbox shut, leaving the other mail there, and sprint back to my house.
 
 It can’t be.
 
 I rush through the front door and up the stairs.