The shop was quiet the next morning, the only sound was the ticking of a grandfather clock tucked in the corner. Aria stood behind the counter, absently tracing the edges of the topmost letter in the bundle. Sleep had eluded her after her discovery, her thoughts consumed by the passionate words scrawled across the aged paper.

“Who were you, Evelyn?” she murmured, staring at the elegant handwriting.

The bell above the door jingled, snapping her from her reverie. Lila breezed in, her blonde hair catching the light like spun gold. She was carrying her ever-present camera, slung around her neck like a lifeline.

“Morning, Aria!” Lila sang, plopping a paper bag on the counter. “Brought you breakfast. You look like you need it.”

Aria offered a weak smile. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Lila cocked her head, her sharp green eyes narrowing. “You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you’ve found something fascinating but don’t want to admit it because you’re afraid it’ll spiral into one of your ‘I-must-solve-this’ obsessions.”

Aria laughed despite herself. “You know me too well.”

“So spill.”

Reluctantly, Aria slid the bundle of letters across the counter. Lila picked them up, her curiosity immediately piqued.

“Where did you find these?”

“In the attic,” Aria said. “They were hidden in a box with some old trinkets. I think they might belong to Evelyn Moreau—my grandmother.”

Lila’s eyes widened. “Evelyn? Your grandmother who…”

“Who died long before I was born, yes.”

Lila carefully untied the red ribbon, her movements uncharacteristically delicate. She read a few lines from the first letter, her brows furrowing. “These are… intense.”

“Heartbreaking, right?” Aria said, leaning against the counter. “I think she wrote them to someone named ‘S.’ But they were never sent.”

Lila looked up, her expression solemn. “Do you think your mom knew about these?”

Aria hesitated. “I don’t know. She never talked about Evelyn. It was like there was this invisible wall around her memory.”

Before Lila could respond, the shop door opened again. Both women turned to see Sebastian Hale step inside, his presence commanding despite his casual attire.

“Oh,” Lila whispered, shooting Aria a knowing look. “So that’s why you’re distracted.”

“Not helping,” Aria hissed under her breath, her cheeks flushing.

Sebastian approached the counter, his grey eyes flicking briefly to Lila before settling on Aria. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Aria said, trying to sound composed. “What brings you in today?”

“I was hoping you could recommend something.” He paused, glancing at the shelves. “A gift. Something unique.”

“For anyone specific?” Lila chimed in, her grin mischievous.

Sebastian gave her a cool look. “For myself. A housewarming present, if you will.”

Aria ignored Lila’s stifled laughter and gestured toward a display of antique compasses. “These are from the early 1900s. Most of them were used by sailors navigating this coast.”

Sebastian picked one up, his fingers brushing the brass surface. “Interesting.”

As he examined it, his gaze drifted to the letters still spread across the counter. “Those look old.”

Aria instinctively moved to gather them. “Just something personal.”

His eyes lingered on the bundle, curiosity flickering in their depths, but he didn’t press. “I’ll take this,” he said, holding up the compass.

“Of course.” Aria rang him up, trying not to notice the way his hand brushed hers when he handed her the cash.

“Thank you,” Sebastian said, pocketing the compass. He hesitated before adding, “See you around.”

Once he was gone, Lila turned to Aria, her expression triumphant. “Well, he’s a brooding dreamboat.”

“Lila,” Aria groaned.

“What?” Lila grinned, gathering the letters. “Now, about these. We’re going to figure out who ‘S’ is. And maybe, in the process, we’ll find out why you’re so flustered around a certain someone.”

Aria rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Let’s just focus on the letters.”

“Sure,” Lila said, winking. “For now.”