Isabelle adjusted her fuschia garb before stepping out into the sunlight. The svelt girl was literally drowning in her grandmother’s sari.

The bright noontime sun beat down on the small Indian village that seemed to bloom around Isabelle’s doorway. The clucking of various fowl filled the musty air, and the smell of cattle wafted through the air along with the sweet smell of inscense. Inhaling the comforting smell of her home village, Isabelle ventured out into the world for what would be her last time…