Her presence overwhelmed me with memories—her sweet strawberry scent, her soft, pale skin, and the wild waves of her sea-brown hair. Her deep eyes refused to meet mine, and she nervously bit her lower lip, just as she always did when uneasy around me. Her fingers fumbled with the edge of her clothing, betraying her anxiety.

Her tired eyes held a sadness that pierced through me, and blood trickled down her brow. She stared at me, fear flickering in her expression—perhaps because I stood ...