Emma never liked New York winters.
Something about the cold always felt off—like the world was trying to freeze itself numb.
She recalled the last one before everything changed.
Snowflakes settled over a coffin dressed in a flag, and that was the end of her brother.
Sergeant Matt Graves.
Dead in a war that was supposed to be winding down.
Her parents barely spoke to each other after.
Her sister, Elise, threw herself into work.
And Emma—well…
She found comfort in places no one should.
By the time the Graves family packed their things and moved to Metro City, Emma was already carrying too much baggage for a twelve-year-old.
Porn addiction, awkward thoughts, intrusive feelings she didn't understand, and a habit of saying things that made people look at her like she was contagious.
She was weird. She knew it.
And maybe that was her punishment for laughing at the funeral, not because it was funny—but because the crying didn't come, and she had to do something.
