I blinked against the blinding light, squinting as it seared my vision. It was so bright, so piercing, that it felt like shards of glass driving into my eyes. Instinctively, I lowered my gaze, desperate for relief. And then, I saw her.

A little girl, no older than three or four, was running through a vast, sunlit meadow. Her laughter carried on the breeze as her hair streamed behind her like a golden ribbon. She glanced over her shoulder, giggling as someone chased after her, arms outstretched.

Suddenly, she was scooped up and spun in the air, her delighted squeals filling the space around us.

"Dad?"

The word left my lips in a whisper, and my chest tightened as tears welled in my eyes. My heart pounded in recognition. It was him—my father. He held the girl tightly, his face radiating pure joy as he hugged and kissed her. Hugged and kissed me.

"Dad!" I called out, my voice trembling as I took a step toward them. "Dad!"

I began to run. The sight of him—a man who had become little more than a fading memory, someone I had last seen when I was barely five years old—overwhelming.

"Dad, it's me! Ashley!" I shouted, desperation lacing my words.

But he didn't react.

"Dad!" My voice cracked as panic rose within me. I reached out, wanting to touch him, to force him to see me. But before I could, icy fingers closed around my shoulder.

"He can't hear you, sweetheart."

I spun around, startled, and found myself staring at a woman. She was young—no older than thirty-five maybe—dressed in a familiar dark blue dress. Her eyes, so sharp and bright, mirrored my own. The resemblance was unsettling.

"Granny?" I breathed, my voice shaking.

She laughed, a light, melodious sound that sent a chill down my spine.

"Oh, how long it's been since anyone called me that," she said warmly. "Time on Earth moves so quickly... Sometimes, I forget."

Her words were cryptic, and my confusion must have been written all over my face because she chuckled again, slipping an arm around my waist. "Oh, sweetheart, you're still so young. Come along, my dear. We need to talk."

Before I could protest, she was guiding me through the meadow, the scenery shifting around us like a dream. A small house materialized in the distance. Her house. The farmhouse in Georgia.

My breath hitched as nostalgia crashed over me like a wave. Memories of long, lazy summers spent here surged through my mind. She led me to the veranda, where a cozy little table was set. Tea, water, sandwiches, and an assortment of pastries—Baba au Rhum, her favorite—were neatly arranged on a lace cloth.

"Sit down, sweetie," she said, gesturing to the empty chair across from her.

I hesitated but obeyed, watching warily as she poured tea into two delicate china cups. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving mine, waiting for me to speak.

"Hi," I finally managed, my cheeks burning as I awkwardly lifted the teacup to my lips. The tea was sweet and floral, with hints of elderflower and lime.

She grinned. "Hi, sweetheart."

Reaching across the table, she took my hand in hers. Her expression grew serious, her eyes searching mine.

"Don't you have any questions?"

Thousands. But I didn't know where to start.

"Where am I?" I asked finally.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, diving straight into the hard ones, are we? Let's start simpler. How are you feeling?"

Before I could respond, a sharp pain flared at the base of my neck.

"Ah!" I winced, clutching the spot.

She nodded knowingly, placing her hand gently over mine. The pain ebbed away as quickly as it had come.

"That's a good sign," she murmured. "But it also means, that we don't have much time."

A chill ran down my spine as the sky above darkened. Thunder growled in the distance, and lightning split the horizon. My grandmother cursed under her breath—a decidedly un-grandmotherly thing to do. Then again, she didn't look like a grandma. Had she always been this young? 

"Thor," she muttered, glaring up at the storm clouds. "Always so dramatic..."

I blinked, incredulous. Her too? Thor? Seriously?

She leaned closer, her hands clasping mine tightly. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Trust your instincts, Ashley. They will guide you."

I opened my mouth to reply, but she cut me off, nodding toward the field where my father and the little girl still stood.

"Find them," she urged. "Find me. Then you'll have your answers."

"Find who?"

"Your parents," she said firmly.

I stared at her in disbelief.

"They're dead," I said, my voice shaking. "And so are you."

I glanced at our hands, still clasped together. The realization hit me like a freight train.

"And so am I," gulping I stared at my hands as if the held the answers. "I'm dead!"

Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Only temporarily."

Of course. My mistake. How could I think death was something permanent?

She leaned back, her gaze softening. "Oh, sweetheart, you should know by now that the world isn't as black-and-white as they teach in school. There's no pure good or evil. No absolute guilty or innocent. The world is gray."

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, the pain in my neck flared up again. A cold wind crept under my collar, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Hey, you impatient bastard!" my grandmother suddenly shouted at the sky, her expression darkening. "It's not time yet!"

I gawked at her, struggling to reconcile the image of this thirty-something woman with the grandmother I remembered. Only her eyes betrayed her true age.

Fat drops of rain began to fall, warm and heavy, raising puffs of dust as they hit the earth. The scent of summer rain filled the air.

My grandmother stood, growling as she peeked out from under the porch roof. "I'm warning you. Stay put."

Worried for her sanity, I stood as well, only to see the little girl—me—and my father running toward the house to escape the rain. Little me squealed with laughter as they reached the porch.

My skin tingled, a zap going through me. Suddenly, I was inside the girl's body, seeing through her eyes.

I saw my grandmother smile down at me—older this time, with a strange shimmer around her—and felt my father's hand on my back, guiding me toward the house. I stopped on the porch, my gaze shifting past her to a young woman with wide, startled eyes. I was seeing... me. Old me. Starring down at young me. 

"Come on, Ashley. Let's get inside and dry off," my father urged.

I frowned, shaking my head. "Granny, who's that lady?"

My grandma's smile froze, her eyes widening. "Dry off first, sweetheart. I'll explain later, okay?"

And then I was back in my own body. My legs nearly buckled as I fought to steady myself.

What. The. Hell.

The girl frowned but eventually nodded, letting my father lead her inside. Her and Dad shared a look. My grandmother turned to face me again.

"Well, that was unexpected. I'll have to block a few memories later..."

Her brow furrowed as she sighed heavily and turned toward the field. I followed her gaze, my body freezing as I saw someone approaching—calm, measured steps leading them toward the house.

"Oh, this is going to be awkward..." she muttered before plastering on a wide grin and planting her hands on her hips.

A flash of lightning illuminated the figure, revealing his sharp features and piercing eyes.

"Annie," Eric breathed, his voice breaking with emotion.

My spine snapped straight. Why did he know my grandma's nickname for me? And why had he said is with so much passion, so much unsaid emotions my insides did a flip? Body lit aflame I stared at him, a deer caught in headlights, but Eric only seemed to have eyes for my grandmother. 

She in turn,  looked to him, her expression unreadable.

When their eyes connected, electricity seemed to charge the stormy darkness surrounding us. The connection they shared seemed so intense, so intimate,  I felt like I was intruding something private by simply looking at them. 

"Eric," she said, a single nod acknowledging him. However, her eyes burned with things left unspoken. 

Something inside me split wide open. I must have made a sound, because Eric snapped out of his trance.  His gaze flickered between us, and for the first time, I saw Eric stunned into silence. Who know that was possible?

"You're here to take her back, aren't you?" my grandmother asked, her voice firm.

Eric just stared, frozen like a statue, but didn't respond.

Another flash of lightning. Wind was picking up, bunching up my hair, pulling at my clothes. The storm was closing in. Granny looked back up again, her brows furrowed, mumbling something intelligible under her breath that sounded a lot like "possessiv fucker...".

"Go. Now," she urged, shoving me toward Eric.

"Annie, wha-" My feet barely carried me, as I stumbled into the unmoving Eric. I didn't want to go. I was just starting to get answers. Saw my family. Felt at peace... 

"Save her," she whispered to Eric, her voice trembling with something I couldn't quite place.

And then, with a final glance, the world dissolved into darkness.