Inside the backpack, nestled between a few neatly folded clothes and a worn teddy bear, were envelopes. Dozens of them. Each one meticulously labeled with dates that spanned years. Some dates were recent, marked with ink that hadn’t yet faded, while others were old, bearing the marks of time and the occasional fingerprint. Mateo caught my gaze and held it, a silent plea in his eyes. He carefully lifted one envelope and handed it to me. My fingers trembled as I took it, unsure of the weight it would hold, the secrets it might reveal. I opened it slowly, the...
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