The memory slammed into me like a physical blow. Seraphina's words echoed in my mind: "I never opened them."
My brothers and I sat in stunned silence in my study, the confession hanging in the air between us like a ghost. Outside, rain had started to fall, pattering against the windows in a rhythm that matched my heartbeat.
"She responded though," I said finally, breaking the silence. "She gave me—us—an answer."
Ronan looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"
"The letter I wrote to her," I explained, the memory crystal clear despite the years. "I poured my heart out to her, told her everything I felt. And she..." The pain was still raw, even now. "She sent back a note saying she could never feel the same way."
Orion's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what letter?"
I stared at him. "The one I put in my gift box. Didn't you both do something similar?"
My brothers exchanged glances.
