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... is head instinctively, and his heart skipped a beat.

His breath hitched.

No way...

Standing in the doorway.

Serene, composed, and untouched by time, was her.

"F-Francesca...?"

His voice came out barely above a whisper.

She stepped in gracefully, her white dress flowing with each quiet step. No makeup. No jewelry. Just her. The same calming presence... the same gentle air that silenced every room she walked into—not with force, but with awe. ...

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