The rain had stopped. Not the heavy, punishing kind, just a light drizzle that left the earth breathing. Clean. Damp. Alive.

 Evelyn sat on the porch of the farmhouse. Wrapped in a blanket, hair messy, cheeks still holding the echo of healing pain. Her leg, still stiff from the wound, was propped up with pillows. The sun peeked out from between the clouds, casting gold over the fields.