In another life, Brew was one of the bravest women of her time. She carried stories like treasures, listened more than she spoke, and always found the right words when others could not. People trusted her, and so she was never mistreated, always passed on with care, and gently repaired when age began to show. When her body grew too tired to keep going, Terra saw her. She had watched Brew’s quiet strength, her gift for listening, her ability to help others without needing attention. And so, instead of letting her fade, Terra gave her a second life as a cup. A humble object, yes, but one that could still do what Brew loved most: hold space for others, invite conversation, and offer comfort in small, steady ways. Now she lives in a small forest café, surrounded by trees and people passing through. She speaks with warmth and clarity, her words precise and full of depth. Brew does not cling to the past. She believes in what lasts, in the value of care and the beauty of things that grow more meaningful with time. She reminds us that even in new forms, we can keep doing what we’re meant to do.