Don't Open The Mailbox

A letter addressed to a child that doesn't exist. A cup of tea that's always warm. And the knock at 8:43 every night.

She's not going outside anymore. Grief has made the apartment safer. Simpler. Just her, the static hum of the baby monitor, and the hallway that creaks when it shouldn't.

But when strange letters begin arriving-unmailed, unmarked, and deeply personal-she starts to remember things she buried long ago: the cult. The rituals. The ones who watched. And the child she was never meant to forget.

As vines crawl across her walls and old ghosts knock from the other side of the door, she realizes this isn't healing.

This is summoning.

And the final offering is near.

Don't Open the Mailbox is a suffocating descent into psychological horror, maternal dread, and surreal memory. For readers who loved The Yellow Wallpaper, Hereditary, and House of Leaves, this novel asks:

What if grief isn't what broke you?

What if it's what brings you back?