In it was a stack of letters I had written to a girl who existed for the most part in my head, where I had imagined what incredible things she might’ve gone on to do after I rescued her from a violation I never would’ve forgiven myself for had I allowed it to happen under my watch. I pulled out those letters, holding them in my hands for the first time in months, unable to believe that the person I had written them to was standing right outside. I hesitated only a moment before climbing to my feet and running back through the front door, where I found her still waiting by her steps.
