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... floated through the field, weaving between bodies and blossoms. The island sang a new lullaby, not of danger or ritual, but of stillness and beginning.
As dawn crept over the treetops, Rose finally stood.
Her naked form caught the first light of morning, golden streaks wrapping around her like a living aura. She turned slowly, facing each woman in turn, then looked to Jude. "The island has accepted us," she said softly. "But now it waits for us to accept ourselves."
Zoey ...
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