Shared POV

Scarlett

The sky is wrong.

Not broken. Not bleeding. Just… different. Restored in a way that makes my chest ache. Blue spreads clean and endless above the ancestral grounds, as if the world has been scrubbed raw and decided to begin again without asking permission.

I stand barefoot at the center of the stones, their ancient circle widened—rewritten by my own hand. The old carvings no longer dictate terms. They listen.

Wind moves through my hair like a blessing instead of a ...