Freya arrives in Chicago on the wings of her awakening, still in her nightgown and sweater. For a moment she thinks that Dahlia may have something to do with this, but all it takes is one very helpful individual to tell her that no, she's fallen into another world and her entire outlook changes.

She practically weeps for joy.

The poor person who is helping her misconstrues her tears for grief, and she lets him think that, because trying to explain her situation is probably infinitely more complicated. Right now, she simply wants to bask in the fact that she doesn't have to explain. She doesn't have to justify anything. She's free.

Her age still wears on her, the centuries she's seen and the life that she's led but knowing that she's in a place where Dahlia can no longer find her. The colors seem to brighten and it's like a weight has been lifted and she wants to explore. She's making her way through the park, still in the clothes she arrived in, when she spots a deer standing in the middle of the park on shaky legs, struggling his way out from under what looks like a leather jacket.

"You poor thing," she says softly as she makes her way closer to try and help him out of it. "How did you get stuck in this?"

The narration is a terrible person, Freya. That's how.