Celeste Ray Part 1: The Arrival The train pulled into the quiet Provençal station at dusk, the fading sun casting long shadows across the stone platform. Alina stepped out slowly, the hem of her linen dress brushing against her knees as the wind stirred—a breath, a sigh, something ancient in the air. Her suitcase, old leather and scuffed at the corners, felt heavier than it should have. Not just with clothes or sketchbooks, but with everything she had left behind in London. The brochure had promised solitude. An artist residency in a converted vineyard. Ten guests. Ten days. No internet.…