She never meant for anyone else to read them.
But he found them anyway-tied with a ribbon, tucked away in the back of her closet, long after the words had stopped.
He had cared for her in her final years. Watched her fade, slowly and softly, without ever truly knowing the life she once lived. After her passing, while sorting through what remained, he discovered them-a bundle of letters written in a hand full of tenderness and ache.
They were written over decades.
Each one a piece of a love she never let go of.
The letters were never meant for him, but they changed him just the same. And so, he sets out to find the man she wrote to-not for closure, but to deliver the story she never had the chance to finish herself.
Dear Whoever Finds Me is a quietly powerful novel about memory, devotion, and the strangers who become messengers of our deepest truths. It's about what we leave behind-and who might be waiting to carry it home.