No one noticed the wind at first.
It wasn’t the dramatic, storm-brewing kind that bent trees like penitent figures or rattled windows. It came in softly, brushing through the town just after dawn, carrying the faint smell of lakewater and cold sun. A breeze too intentional to be weather, too gentle to be warning.
Ella was the first to sense it.
She stood on her porch in her slippers, hands wrapped around a mug of peppermint tea, staring at the pale watercolor wash of early morning.