Unread Margins

Some readers write in the margins. Scribbled thoughts, quiet questions, moments too fragile for the main text. It's where wonder lingers, where doubt breathes, where the reader meets the story halfway.

But what if the margin was never just a space for side notes? What if it held the truth the story was too afraid to say?

And when the final chapter ends, what remains: the polished narrative...or the fragments of the scribbles left just outside it?