Time is the gentlest sculptor in the world, and also its cruelest betrayer.
It can gild memories with a soft golden light, blurring every hurt. It can also, in one unsuspecting moment, tear open a wound that had long since healed, making blood and tears flow anew.
When the words “old scars” are brought up again, someone is bound to pay the price.
Someone is searching for an answer, one hidden in the misty rain of ten years ago. Someone is covering up a secret, one powerful enough to turn everything in the present upside down. And I am both the person searching for the answer and the person wrapped up in the secret.
