For over a year, I’d been delivering packages through the same neighborhood — same streets, same houses, same routine. But then, one day, I met Blue.
Unlike most dogs on my route who barked or chased the truck, Blue was different. He never barked or ran off. Instead, he simply sat at the edge of a driveway, watching me quietly with deep, soulful eyes. Every day, without fail, Blue would appear, walk up to me, and settle at my feet. His calm presence was comforting, almost familiar — like a memory just out of reach.
One rainy afternoon, I laughed and asked, “What’s your name, buddy?” Blue tilted his head and made a soft sound. That’s when I noticed his collar tag — it didn’t have a name. Just one word: Melissa.
My name.
Even more curious, the house near where Blue waited had been abandoned for over a year. I started asking neighbors and called local shelters, but no one knew where Blue came from.
Then, one morning, something changed. Blue approached me carrying an envelope gently in his mouth. Written on the front were the words: “For Melissa Only.”
Inside, I found a letter and a small, old-fashioned key. The letter, signed simply “A Friend,” instructed me to visit the red-doored house on Willow Lane. It said Blue had found me for a reason — that something important was waiting for me there.
Continue reading on next page…