The biting wind whipped Fera Luzares's hair across her face, a cruel caress against her tear-stained cheeks. She stood by a rusty lamppost, a silent sentinel in the desolate street, her small frame rigid with a fury that choked her lungs. The chill of the night did nothing to soothe the burning shame that flared when she realized she was at a bus stop, her hand still raised in a three o'clock angle.

She boarded the bus, finding a fleeting moment of quiet respite by the window. As the rain began to fall, each drop tracing a path down the glass mirrored the silent tears that escaped her eyes. The world outside blurred into a canvas of motion and melancholy.

At an unfamiliar stop, she disembarked, her eyes fixed on a slender girl with baggage, a silent prayer that her intuition was right. The girl led her to a small, three-story building, its dirty white walls and red roof promising a new beginning. The landlady, a woman bursting with cheerful energy, welcomed her, and Fera, tired but resolute, finally found a place to lay her head.