A new scene painted itself into view: a figure wandering through a loud and crowded market, wearing a long, heavy and hooded burlap cloak. Their face was obscured by their large hood. Like a breeze, they floated through the crowd, stopping at stands here and there to purchase fruits.
Suddenly, the figure's hood shifted, bumped by the shoulder of a passerby. As the person deftly reached up to reposition the hood to cover their face, Abrial's eyes widened.
…Finley?
Finley?!
That young woman — she was — Finley!!! Abrial was sure of it. That pale, regal heart-shaped face, those serious hazel eyes and the brief flash of honey-colored hair were absolutely unmistakable.
"Finley!!!" she tried to holler. Only…her throat wouldn't make a single noise. She tried shouting again, and screaming, and whispering, too, but weirdly, she couldn't even feel where her own mouth was!
