I
looked
at
the
pristine
white
envelope,
the
kind
used
for
wedding
invitations
or
bad
news.
My
stomach
lurched.
It
sat
alone
on
the
worn
wooden
table,
stark
against
the
chipped
paint,
a
glaring
anomaly
in
my
messy
apartment.
The
silence
in
the
room
pressed
down
on
me,
broken
only
by
the
erratic
thump
of
my
heart.
Who
would
send
me
something
so
formal?
Carefully,
I
reached
out
a
trembling
hand...