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... inct, muscle memory built from years of doing this for Amara. The soup simmered gently, filling the house with a familiar warmth that no longer felt earned.

In the living room, Seren sat curled up with the tablet. The screen lit up.

An image is loaded. Her small brows knit together. A black-and-white picture. Strange. Blurry. Numbers at the top.

Six weeks. Before she could fully understand it, her finger swiped.

Deleted. "Seren, what are you doing?"

Elara’ ...

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