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Chapter 8

  • Arlene
  • I woke up to the pungent aroma of freshly baked bread. The smell lingered in the air, teasing my senses.
  • I opened my eyes gently, turning toward the scent. Beside my bed sat a tray with a basket of warm bread and a small dish of butter. Yet, no matter how inviting the breakfast was, it did little to ease the heaviness in my chest.
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