When my 14-year-old daughter suddenly begged me not to allow her 17-year-old stepbrother to visit on weekends, I was caught off guard.

She wouldn’t give me a reason, and the more I pressed, the more distressed she became.

As a parent, my thoughts immediately drifted toward the worst possibilities. I couldn’t imagine what could have altered between them, and her desperation made me fear there was something serious she wasn’t telling me.

One afternoon, while straightening up my stepson’s room, I spotted a strange heap of socks near his bed. It looked like ordinary teenage clutter, but when I moved them aside, I discovered a small box tucked carefully underneath. Inside were folded letters – written in my daughter’s handwriting.

Each page revealed pieces of her inner struggles: how invisible she felt at home, how overwhelmed she was at school, and how many fears weighed heavily on her that she couldn’t bring herself to share with us. And every single letter was addressed to her stepbrother.

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