I am not the carefree woman I used to be.
This new life wakes every raw thing inside me. Every feeling, every smell, every sharp need. After months of numbness, the flood comes all at once. It hits like a storm. My chest thunders. My wolf stirs.
The wind hushes. Voices blur. I barely hear Camilla step out of the car. Her words are thin paper to me. I am pulled forward instead.
A huge sculpture stands before me. Tall. Still. Cold as bone. It draws me like tide pulls a small boat. Snow clings to its skin. My feet take me closer without asking.
I did not mean to cry. The tears fall and melt holes in the snow. My hands tremble. I reach out and brush the frost away.
To anyone watching I must look strange. My face far away. My hands touching stone like it is a person. It is supposed to be a statue of me. My body. But it feels like a stranger I once loved.
Sadness sits on me like thick fog. It smells of iron and old rain.
