Your Pain Is My Misery ~ Jasper Hale

The perpetually gray skies of Forks, Washington, hung low and heavy as Violet Andrews navigated her old, rusty teal jeep down a winding, overgrown track.
The house appeared through the dense trees, a small, forgotten cabin with broken shutters and chipped paint, tucked away in comforting solitude. A soft smile, a rare sight for Violet, touched her lips.
This was it. Her new beginning. Far from the suffocating pain of others, far from the life she'd fled. She pulled the key from her pocket, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth that bloomed in her chest. The door creaked open with a groan, a fitting welcome to her private sanctuary.
Inside, the air was still and cool, filled with the scent of old wood and damp earth. Violet dropped her bags, surveying her new domain. For the first time in a long time, the quiet hum of her own thoughts was the loudest thing she heard.
