The memory hit Kafziel like a sudden gust of wind, sharp and vivid. He could see it clearly now, the small hands of a younger Aniela reaching out, grabbing his, pulling him back from the edge of panic.
I was just a kid… and she… she was already fearless, he thought, chest tightening at the memory.
The sun had been warm that day, the kind of gentle heat that made flowers seem to glow with their own life. Aniela and he had been running barefoot across the field behind their neighborhood, plucking wildflowers that swayed in the breeze. He could remember the smell of fresh grass, the earthy scent of the soil, and the way the wind tangled in Aniela’s hair.
Then, the moment of chaos. His small shirt caught on the rusty fence, metal teeth digging into the fabric and scratching his skin. Panic
