She believed it now.

Not as a dream.

Not as a trick of memory.

But as truth.

This wasn’t a second chance.

It was a rewrite.

Every step she took, every word she spoke, every silence she allowed herself — it all carried a new kind of gravity. She wasn’t just shaping her future; she was undoing the past.

As she walked down the sun-washed street, the thought struck her suddenly — sharp and insistent. There was something she needed to ask Julian. Something she should have asked years ...