The sky above was a distant, muted gray, like the color of old memories long forgotten. Ava stood in the middle of a field she had not seen in years—her childhood home, but not quite. The air hummed with the unsettling stillness of a dream, and in the distance, dark clouds churned on the horizon, edging closer like a silent predator. The field should have been familiar, but it wasn't. Not anymore. Nothing felt real.
Her younger self was there, just a shadow of a girl, barely more than a silhouette against the backdrop of a time she had long buried. The scene was fractured, like a shattered mirror—pieces missing, edges sharp and painful. And just beyond the girl, in the corner of Ava's eye, stood a figure. Shrouded in shadow, silent, and yet, undeniably there.
