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... rled beneath her, hands pressed to the ground as if trying to feel the island’s pulse. "It’s spreading. The whole island feels... alive. Breathing."
Sophie knelt at Jude’s side, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. Her touch lingered, reverent. "It’s not just alive," she whispered. "It’s listening."
And the tree responded.
A slow creak, deep and resonant, vibrated through the grove. The trunk of the black tree pulsed faintly, and more blossoms unfurled along the bran ...
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