Leona quickly wiped away her tears and tried to compose herself since she noticed something.
She had caught a glimpse of the next letter—the handwriting, elegant and precise, unmistakably Luna's—and she needed to read it. She couldn't wait another second.
She set Lulu's letter aside with the gentlest care, treating it like a fragile treasure she would later frame and hang on her wall.
Then she reached for Luna's envelope, her fingers shaking as she broke the seal.
The handwriting was beautiful. Perfect loops, careful strokes, the script of someone who had practiced until she could write beautifully without thinking. Leona's heart clenched.
'Dear Forest Spirit,'
'I don't know how to start this letter. I've written it so many times in my head, but now that I'm actually putting words on paper, everything feels inadequate.'
'Thank you. That's where I should begin. Thank you for everything you've done for me.'
'For the times you made me treats when I was sad.'
