Serena’s POV
I sat alone in the unfamiliar bedroom, everything around me feeling both strange and familiar at once. That helpless sensation of lost memories washed over me again, darkening my mood as I settled by the window.
My fingers traced over the books arranged on the desk—mostly design references and textbooks. So my design talent I'd always been proud of wasn't just innate gift but years of dedicated study. Curious, I pulled out a portfolio and flipped it open, surprised to discover my own work inside.
Each piece was meticulously signed and dated in the bottom right corner. Even as a teenager, I'd created impressive designs. "Damn, past Serena really knew her stuff," I muttered, feeling my spirits lift as I examined each piece one by one.
I lost track of time until my
