She stood at the edge of a moment, her gaze steady, unwavering. There was no need for words—the weight of her thoughts was carried in the curve of her brow, the quiet tension in her lips.

Her hair, unbound, fell like waves around her shoulders, mingling with the rhythm of her breath. In the stillness, she felt her own strength bloom.

Life had shaped her, painted her in hues of maroon—soft yet unyielding. And in her eyes lingered a story not yet told, a storm not yet quieted, and a fire that refused to dim