A good old-fashioned summer storm broiled in the distance. Faye could feel the slithering winds, mixing cool and hot, shifting through the grass. The sun was near its setting point and it made the clouds glow with an eerie light.

Faye relished the way that the wind from the incoming storm tugged at her clothes and hair. It was almost as if some magical faeries of worlds long past called to her. She felt one with the soft earth beneath her bare feet. She smiled, thinking about the way mama would’ve had a fit, to know she was out here just now. But she was independent now. And when she had seen the dark, low-hanging clouds from her sweet little cottage in the forest, she knew what she had to do.