PREVIEW

... traffic. Not with phones buzzing or news feeds screaming.

Just light.

A soft wash of gold and lavender, painting the broken columns of the ruin in shimmering hues. The air was cold—crisp, clean, wild. Birds Kieran didn't recognize called from the trees. Somewhere, something that sounded like a flute owl sang a haunting note.

Kieran stirred under his long coat, which he had folded over himself like a blanket the night before. The stone floor hadn't been kind to his back, ...

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