The memory enveloped Mara like a vivid brush stroke against the canvas of her subconscious, sharp and searing as an open wound.

She found herself transported back to her sixteenth year, standing under the makeshift shelter of a small, weathered convenience store, the roof barely providing refuge from the torrential downpour. The world around her was shrouded in a palette of gray—the heavy clouds mirrored the slick, rain-soaked asphalt beneath her feet. The air carried the earthy aroma of ...