The rain had started falling just as the last school bell rang.
Students rushed out of the building, opening umbrellas and covering their heads with notebooks as they ran toward the school gate. Among them was Riya Sharma, a quiet sixteen-year-old girl who preferred silence over chaos.
She walked slowly through the rain, her backpack hanging loosely from one shoulder.
Riya had always liked rainy days. They made the world feel calmer… softer. But today, something about the rain felt different. The sky was darker than usual, and the wind carried a strange chill.
Almost like a warning.
By the time she reached home, the rain had become heavier. Water dripped from the ends of her hair as she stood in front of the door of her small house.
She was about to unlock it when something caught her eye.
A small white envelope was lying on the floor, half-wet from the rain.
Riya frowned.
"That's strange," she murmured.
Nobody in her family sent letters. In fact, nobody really sent letters anymore. Everything was messages, emails, or calls.
Curious, she picked it up.