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... . The air smelled of home—of damp earth, of burning firewood, of something warm cooking inside. His heart quickened.

And then he heard it—the soft, familiar humming.

The melody drifted through the open window. His mother used to hum it while cooking, while sewing, while brushing his hair when he was too tired to keep his eyes open. The sound wrapped around him like a blanket, and he smiled, his chest swelling with warmth. He had made it back. He had left behind the nightmare of t ...

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