Coco found herself wandering through the forest, the afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees in golden shafts— casting everything in an almost dreamlike haze.
The air filled with the sounds of distant birds singing as she moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, her mind wandering with no real goal.
This noon was quiet, peaceful, or at least it should have.
Coco moved through the forest with quiet precision, her body moving on instinct as she tracked signs of monsters— twigs snapped, disturbed leaves echoed, along with the faint scents lingering in the air.
Six hours had passed since she had left the house. Six hours since her mother's voice, soft and trembling, had dropped those words like a stone.
"A bus.. It hit me, and it happened so fast."
The memory hit her between breaths. She didn't cry. Couldn't, actually. Instead, she moved.
