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... A walk-in wardrobe.
The shelves were full. Not just stocked—stuffed.
Dresses, tops, sandals, a dozen different pairs of sunglasses.
All my sizes.
Every piece was something I’d actually wear.
I grabbed a pale green T-shirt from the rail and pulled on a pair of white trackies.
My hair was a mess from the flight, so I yanked it up into a bun, tied it tight, and checked my reflection.
Casual. Clean. Sort of... annoyingly cheerful.
Whate ...
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