There was a time, long ago, when she saw the world clearly—too clearly. At first, it was a blessing. As a child, her senses were lanterns in the dark, guiding her to little wonders others missed: the intricate lacework of frost on window glass, the hidden symmetry in cracks along the sidewalk, or the way laughter sounded like ripples spilling into the air. She could sit for hours observing the tiny things—patterns within patterns within patterns—until the quiet felt like music.