single key and a slip of paper with an address. No explanation. No note. Just that.
But somehow, I knew there was more to it.
The Cottage on the Hill
The address led me to the outskirts of town — a winding road lined with wildflowers and whispering trees. At the end stood a small stone cottage, aged but welcoming, with ivy climbing the walls and curtains fluttering softly through open windows.
When I unlocked the door, a familiar scent greeted me — lavender, my mother’s favorite.
The cottage was spotless, lovingly arranged. On the wooden table sat a sealed letter, folded neatly beside a pot of blooming violets. My hands trembled as I opened it.
The Letter
My dearest,
I know this will surprise you.
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