The townspeople of Graymoor called her the girl from the woods.She was too pale, too quiet, too strange for their liking. Ashara Anderson had grown used to the stares. She kept her head low, her books clutched tightly to her chest, her steps fast as she made her way from school to the jungle-shrouded road that led to her house.Except it wasn’t really a house.It was a stone mansion nestled deep in the forest, wrapped in vines and mystery, perched at the edge of Graymoor like a secret carved into the trees. No one dared venture too close—not even the boldest of teenagers. There were rumors, whispers of wolves howling on windless nights, lights flickering in the attic, and strange sigils burned into the bark of trees nearby.But to Ashara, it was simply home.A lonely one.A quiet one.⸻Ashara at Sixteen: Innocent, Isolated, IgnoredAt sixteen, Ashara was all limbs and softness—tall, delicate, with long midnight-brown hair that curled like smoke and eyes a shade of silver too sharp t
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