Rhea Solace Part 1 There was nothing extraordinary about the small writing desk by the window—except perhaps, how it held hundreds of lives within it. Neatly stacked ivory paper, a brass fountain pen with fading gold initials, and a mug forever stained with tea. This was where Aanya wrote love stories… not hers, but everyone else’s. Every day, she sat with requests. A line from a shy lover, a paragraph from an apologetic husband, a mother trying to bridge years of silence with her daughter. Aanya wrote letters for them all. Anonymous, elegant, and filled with emotions she had never…