Lunara didn't remember walking there.
But there she was, standing at the top of the hill her mother used to take her to when she was a child. She hadn't been back in years.
The wind was calmer here. The city noise below barely reached her. In the distance, the same view she used to sit and stare at beside her mother stretched wide, quiet houses, narrow roads, and the line of trees marking the edge of the forest.
Her mother used to bring her here every spring when she was a kid.
A small picnic basket. Warm blankets. Just the two of them.
On days when life felt heavy, Lilith would say, "Come on, baby. Let's go breathe a little."
And here they would sit, breathing, laughing, doing nothing at all.
It had been years since Lunara last came, but her feet remembered the path. Her heart remembered the silence.
She stood there, still in her coat, her shoes damp from the grass. The city noise was a distant hum, muffled under the weight pressing down on her chest.
