Page 19 of Second Chance with the Half-Elf

---

Bundled tight, ink faded to pale gray veins on soft paper.

The top one marked simply:To A.T.

The breath I suck in is sharp enough to cut.

A.T.

Notcould be anyone. Not now.

The scrawl on the flap is unmistakable—my mother’s.

For you, when you miss me most.

My hands shake as I slide the letter free.

The words swim as I read:

Dearest A.,

Sometimes I think of that night on the cliffs and wonder what would’ve happened if I’d stayed. You made me believe in forever—no small feat. But forever is a cruel weight when you’re human. And so I ran.

Please forgive the cowardice. Some loves burn too bright to survive the daylight.

I hope, someday, you find someone brave enough to stay.

Yours, always—S.

I stare at it like it might combust in my fingers.

Of course. Ofcourse.

History’s ugly little loop tightening its noose.

Aeron’s uncle. My mother. A human and an elf. One who stayed. One who ran.

Sound familiar?

My stomach knots, sour and sharp.

Because this is how it happens.

Want. Fear. Bolt.

I shove the letter back in the box like it burns.

The wind howls against the glass, the first fat drops spitting against the window panes.

I’m on my feet before I realize it, pacing hard. Breath coming too fast.

I won’t do it. Won’t be that. Won’t be her.

The lights flicker again.

And then die.

A crack of thunder so loud it rattles the house to its bones.

I curse, grab my phone—5% battery and no bars. Typical.

---