The Unposted Letter
The letter arrived on a Wednesday, carried by a supply boat that had weathered three days of gale to reach North Ronaldsay. Eleanor MacLeod took it from Old Man MacLeod's weathered hand, noting the paper—too smooth, too white, the sort of stationery that belonged in a lawyer's office rather than a lighthouse outpost—and the absence of any stamp or postmark. She did not open it immediately. She...
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