Letters From a Ghost, Love From a Twin

My husband and I were praised as the model arranged marriage couple in our circle—until I developed postpartum depression.

I fled the nursery, trying to escape my son's relentless crying.

Wandering aimlessly through the house, my footsteps stopped outside the study.

At some point, a password lock had been installed on the study door.

Instinctively, I raised my hand and entered my husband's birthday, then our son's. Neither worked.

My nerves tingled with a strange excitement as I prepared to enter my own birthday.