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... , hands tucked deep in his jacket as if holding the weight of something unspeakable.

The sun had fully risen now — warm gold pouring across the grass, kissing the dew into mist.

But he didn’t feel it.

The cold didn’t touch him. Nor did the sun’s warmth. He just existed—somewhere in between.

Behind him, faint footsteps never came. And he didn’t need to turn to know that Mark hadn’t followed yet.

Maybe he wouldn’t.

He kicked gently at the earth near ...

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Welcome to the world that has shed its old skin.

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