Lisa was thirty-eight, a former corporate attorney who had once navigated high-rises and courtroom drama in Manhattan. She’d built a name, earned the money, lived the life—until her marriage unraveled in a matter of months. What followed had shaken her to the core.
The city she once adored suddenly became unbearable. The honking, the crowds, the intensity—it all felt like pressure on a bruise. Lisa needed space. Not just physical room, but emotional oxygen. Somewhere she could exhale without judgment or memory clinging to her skin.