Luna tells the story of a December night on St. Perpetua's Drive, a winding gravel road outside the small town of Mercy Falls, Vermont. She was driving home late from a holiday gathering when the snow began to fall thick and fast, and her car slid into a ditch near an old stone bridge. A figure appeared out of the blizzard—a woman in a red coat, barefoot, carrying a single candle in a glass jar. Luna offered her a ride. The woman spoke only once, in a voice like wind through dry reeds: 'I've been walking since the first snow.' Luna drove her to a farmhouse at the end of the road, where an old man opened the door and said, 'You found her.' The woman stepped inside without looking back. Luna never learned her name, but she still sees that candle flame in the dark sometimes, flickering at the edge of her headlights. A quiet, lingering tale of winter roads and the things that wait in the snow.

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