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“Melissa.” My name. The house he lingered in front of had been abandoned for over a year. I asked around, checked shelters—no one knew anything about Blue. Then one morning, he brought me an envelope. On it: “For Melissa Only.” Inside was a note and a key. The letter, signed “A Friend,” told me to go to the red-doored house on Willow Lane. It said Blue had found me for a reason—and there was something waiting for me. After my route,