The old woman named the price - a surprisingly low amount - and Collins didn't hesitate to pay. She'd found her treasure. This wasn't just a piece of jewelry; it was a key, a portal to another time, another life. As she slipped the ring onto her finger, a wave of dizziness washed over her, a blinding flash of light momentarily obscuring her vision. The sounds of the flea market faded, replaced by a disorienting rush of sound and sensation, a whirlwind of colors and smells that left her breathless and disoriented. The air, once thick and humid, turned crisp and cool against her skin. The scent of fried dough vanished, replaced by the earthy aroma of woodsmoke and damp soil. The cacophony of the market was replaced by the gentle chirping of unseen birds and the distant lowing of cattle. The vibrant colours around her shifted, fading into muted tones of browns and greens. When she could finally focus, she saw that she was no longer in the bustling flea market, but standing in a sun-drenched courtyard, surrounded by colonial architecture unlike anything she'd ever seen.
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