Chapter 1: The Letter That Shouldn’t Exist
“It was the kind of letter that made you question reality—dated centuries ago, yet written to me, in the present.”
I stared at the envelope, my hands trembling slightly. The postmark was faded, the ink smudged, as though it had been handled by time itself. The wax seal, an intricate crest I didn’t recognize, felt oddly warm to the touch. The date? November 9, 1989. That couldn’t be right—it was impossible. That date was more than thirty years ago.
I had spent the last few months trying to get my life together after a painful breakup, burying myself in my work as a journalist in Berlin. My heart still ached with the loss of someone I couldn’t save, and the celebration of the city outside, marking the fall of the Berlin Wall, felt like an insult to my own crumbling world. While the rest of Berlin rejoiced, I remained haunted by my past—by a decision I couldn’t undo.
The letter had arrived at my desk at the newspaper office, hand-delivered, though no one seemed to remember who had dropped it off.
Elena.
My name was scrawled in cursive on the front, but it wasn’t the handwriting that unnerved me. It was the date, the crest, and the strange pull I felt the moment I picked it up. My best friend Clara was seated nearby, her laptop open, eyes glued to the stream of celebratory footage rolling in.
“Elena, come on, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime moment out there. The Wall is falling! You’ve been stuck in that office too long. Come celebrate!”
“I can’t,” I said softly, still staring at the letter. Something about it whispered to me, called to me like a voice from the past.
“Still brooding over him?” Clara sighed, rolling her chair closer. “You’ve got to let go. He’s gone, and you’re still here. Move on.”
But how could I? My thoughts drifted to Markus, the man I had loved so deeply, who had slipped through my fingers. My heart tightened as I thought of the mistakes I’d made, the things I didn’t say, the regret that shadowed my every step. Berlin was alive with the promise of change, but I was drowning in memories.
Clara leaned over, noticed the letter in my hand, and frowned. “What’s that?”
“I’m not sure yet.” I broke the seal, the wax snapping under my thumb, and unfolded the delicate paper inside.
Meet me at the Brandenburg Gate. Midnight. November 9, 1989. I’ve waited for you. L.
“L?” Clara asked, peering at the letter with interest. “Who’s L?” “I don’t know,” I whispered, but the truth was, I felt as if I did.
The rest of the day passed in a haze, the letter never far from my mind. The city streets were teeming with joy, people flooding the streets, tearing chunks of the Wall down with their bare hands. Berlin was alive, reborn, but I was only half aware of it. Something—someone—was waiting for me.
Midnight drew closer, and Clara’s voice buzzed in the background as she tried to coax me out. I couldn’t concentrate on anything she said. All I could think about was the letter.
“Elena, you need this. If you won’t come out tonight, at least promise me you’ll do something to get out of this rut,” Clara insisted. Her green eyes, always so full of life, were soft with concern. She had been there for me through everything—through the worst heartbreak, the nights I cried, the days I couldn’t get out of bed. She didn’t deserve to be dragged down into my world of regrets.
I forced a smile, placing my hand on hers. “I promise.”
But the promise I intended to keep had nothing to do with moving on. I knew where I needed to go.
By the time I made my way to the Brandenburg Gate, the night air had turned crisp, the sound of celebration still echoing faintly in the distance. The Gate loomed ahead of me, majestic under the soft glow of the streetlights. My heart raced with every step, my breath catching in my throat.
I stood there, alone, clutching the letter tightly. Midnight was approaching. I glanced around, half expecting someone to step out from the shadows. The city seemed to hold its breath, waiting with me.
Suddenly, I saw him.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a long dark coat, he stood at the base of the Gate, his back to me. The weight of his presence made my pulse quicken. Even from this distance, I felt an inexplicable pull, as if he had always been waiting for me. I knew instinctively that this was L— the one who had sent the letter. He turned, and as his gaze met mine, my breath caught in my throat.
He was impossibly handsome, with sharp features, piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through me. There was an air of mystery about him, a quiet intensity that both intrigued and unnerved me. His eyes, dark as the night, softened when they met mine, as though he had been waiting for this moment as long as I had.
“Elena,” he said, his voice low and smooth. It was a voice that stirred something deep inside me, something I had forgotten existed.
“How do you know me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. My heart pounded in my chest as I took a hesitant step closer.
“I’ve always known you,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine. There was something hauntingly familiar about him, as if I had seen him in another life, in a dream.
The distance between us closed, and I felt the world shift around me. His hand reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch was electrifying, sending a shiver down my spine. For a moment, time itself seemed to stop, the world outside the Gate falling silent.
“We don’t have much time,” he said softly, his gaze intense. “But I had to see you again.” “Again?” I asked, confused. “I don’t understand—”
“You will,” he whispered, his fingers lightly grazing my cheek. His touch was warm, grounding me in the moment, even as my mind spun with questions.
“Who are you?” I asked, the words trembling on my lips.
But before he could answer, a faint sound echoed in the distance—a sound that made my heart stop. Footsteps. Someone was watching us.
I turned, scanning the shadows, but I saw nothing. When I looked back at him, his expression had changed—his eyes darkened with urgency, the warmth slipping away.
“They’re coming,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. “You have to trust me.”
Before I could ask anything more, the world seemed to blur around me, the shadows closing in.