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Elias had found the file on an old cloud drive he hadn't accessed in years. The problem was, he had no memory of taking it. He didn't recognize the market, the city, or the woman. Yet, the date on the file metadata was from a summer he spent backpacking through Europe—a summer that remained a complete blank in his memory following a severe train accident that had left him in a coma.

"Ah, Clara," the old man said softly. "She used to play here every weekend. A beautiful soul." IMG_1643MOV

The painter sighed and shook his head. "She moved away many years ago. To study music in Paris, I think. People come and go, young man. This plaza just holds the echoes." Elias had found the file on an old