It was a cold November evening in New York, and the chill in the air cut through me like shards of ice. The city's symphony—honking horns, hurried footsteps, and the murmur of voices—swirled around me, but all I could feel was the weight of my thoughts pressing in, making the world seem just a little quieter, a little farther away.

The cold was different here—New York's cold, harsh, and relentless, much like the weight of memories I couldn't shake off. The wind sliced through my layers, reminding me of all the things I tried to forget a far cry from the warm breezes of home.