Three years later, I stood before the sleek, modern research building of Cedar University, and my reflection gazed back at me from the glass facade. I looked calm and composed, and my steps did not waver.
This time, I returned as the lead researcher to sign off on a pivotal national project. No one remembered the broken, humiliated wreck that I had been when I left three years ago. No one knew how the past, drenched in rain, blood, and tears, had once stripped me of every last shred of faith in love.
"Aria."
A voice called out, hoarse and broken, like gravel dragged over shattered glass.
I turned.
Ethan sat in a wheelchair, backlit by the sun, but the light could not hide his hollowed cheeks and paper-pale skin. His left leg had visibly atrophied, and he gripped a heavy metal brace in
