Once a million dreams ago, she had been a Jedi.
She had been happy, her path in life chosen as a baby, her goal molded by the Order.
But she was too intuitive, too watchful. So she had been ordered to be eliminated.
Her would-be killer, the lover of her Master.
So he hadn't killed her (she wishes so much that he did, because then at least she wouldn't be a girl in the wrong time, completely new and unaccustomed and her four-year-old niece is now forty). He'd simply used an old Sith ritual: Savasinah. The Slumbering Corpse.
She only awakens thirty-six years later, and her Jedi are destroyed, all of her friends are dead, and she is alone.
She is so alone.