Mira found something she’d forgotten: how it feels when the body is simply useful to itself. Without fabric to constrict, she noticed the subtleties of motion—the way her shoulder blades slid, how her breathing altered the shape of her ribs, how the sun warmed the bare skin at the back of the neck. The group’s gaze was neither leering nor invasive; it was the compassionate attention of people who’d chosen this place to belong to one another honestly.