Drew

Drew moved through the world like a whispered secret—elegant, elusive, and unforgettable. With hair the color of chestnut leaves in autumn and eyes that caught the light like polished glass, she left a trail of quiet admiration in her wake. The small coastal town where she lived knew her as the girl who danced barefoot at the edge of the tide, who read poetry under the sycamore tree near the old lighthouse. But beneath her soft smile and graceful composure was a heart stitched with dreams far bigger than the sleepy streets of her hometown could hold. On the eve of her twenty-first birthday, Drew felt the familiar pull of something she couldn’t quite name—an ache just beneath her ribs, like the hush before a storm.