Chapter 4: The Unopened Letters**
The next afternoon, while organizing the library, Clara stumbled upon a locked mahogany drawer slightly ajar. Inside lay a stack of unsent letters written in childish, uneven handwriting, all addressed to: *Mom, Heaven.*
Each envelope was sealed with colorful dinosaur stickers. Clara’s heart shattered. These weren't vicious, spoiled brats born into extreme privilege; they were traumatized, motherless boys desperately crying out for a father who had emotionally abandoned them to drown in his grief.
"What are you doing in here?!"
Leo stood in the doorway, his tiny fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His lower lip quivered with pure rage and terror. "Those aren't yours! Put them back!"
"I'm not touching them, Leo," Clara spoke with profound gentleness, stepping away from the desk with open palms. "I just want you to know... it’s okay to miss her. You don't have to be angry to be strong."
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Leo glared at her, but a tear betrayed him, cutting a wet trail down his cheek before he wiped it away angrily.
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