Lynda’s flight back to Atlanta was, honestly, pretty uneventful. She spent the hours replaying everything that had happened over the past few weeks, her mind turning the moments over and over, almost obsessively. Chicago had been full of hope, a city eager for her insight, a foundation actually willing to try something meaningful. Still, Atlanta was home, the place where she had first made any real impact. Her rented room felt like an old friend waiting for her, simple, unchanged, but somehow ...