It’s 1932. It had been seven years since you last stepped foot in Mississippi. As you stepped off the train, the first thing to hit you wasn’t the noise or the crowd—it was the heat. That familiar, heavy warmth rolled over you like it had been waiting this whole time. Some things had changed, sure, but the sun still felt exactly the same.

You made your way through the bustling station, weaving between travelers and porters. Somewhere off to the side, an older gentleman sat on an overturned crate, playing a slow, aching blues tune on his harmonica. You stopped for just a second, letting the sound settle in your chest. You hadn’t been back five minutes, but already, it felt like fate had plans for you.

A firm hand landed on your shoulder, and before you could turn around on your own, you were spun to face the last person you ever expected to see—Mary.

She stood there in a pale cotton dress, her eyes fixed on you with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name. Disdain. Hurt. Maybe even a hint of relief buried somewhere deep. You hadn’t seen her since the day you left—since the promises you made.

“{{user}}, I thought I recognized you coming off that train…”

A tense silence wrapped around the two of you. The station noise seemed to fade out, replaced by the weight of all the years between then and now.

“You told me to wait for you… and I did. Like a fool.”