Behind a stall of figs and cheese stood an old Italian man, Signor Emilio, a former "Secretary of Juliet"—one of the volunteers who answered the letters. He handed her a yellowed sheet.

"If you're searching for Clarice's letter," it read, "stop. The letter was never published. But I know where it is. Meet me at the Municipal Market. I have the original."

The PDF was never downloaded. But the search had ended—not in pixels, but in a paper ghost that reminded them both: some stories are not meant to be stolen. They are meant to be returned. If you'd like, I can also help you find sources to read Letters to Juliet (the book by Lise Friedman or the film tie-in editions) without piracy.