Max knew as soon as he opened the letter that their lives would never be the same. He screened all of Norma's mail, just as he had when she was at her peak. Of course now that she no longer worked they seldom got mail at all, unless it was bills or the occasional junk mail. That was what made that particular letter so different. It was written in shaky cursive, as if by a child.
He would soon find out after opening it that it was indeed a child who had written it. It was a fan letter, a real one. One so heartfelt and sincere he had to read it twice and then triple check that it was meant for Norma. It was from a little girl who listed her age as no more than twelve, and the only thing she wished for in the world was to meet her favorite actress, Norma Desmond.
It was 1942, and Norma had been out of work for over a decade. The masses of people who had once written and begged for her autograph had forgotten her, all except this one child. That day Max didn't write his usual two hundred letters. He only took her the one. At first, she was confused and thought it was a joke. A letter from a child? Absurd.
But the more times she read it, the more interested she became. So much so that she didn't question why her usual large pile of mail had decreased so drastically to only one letter.
"Max!" she called late in the day.
"Yes, Madame?"
"Respond to this little girl, this Beth. She'll get her wish. Tell her to come here tomorrow at ten o'clock sharp."
"Yes, Madame."
As he went to find the phone number to call the child, he could feel a shift in the air. Something was about to happen, something big. And it would all start with one Beth Woods, a very lucky girl indeed.