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... onut lingered in the air as I sat at the dresser, watching Azul through the mirror.

She dabbed the healing balm across the scar that stretched down the side of my cheek—one that had faded slightly but still caught the light like a thin thread of silver.

She had been so consistent with applying the balm morning and night that the scar was starting to close up again. But how could I allow that?

I’m going to break her heart tonight.

Azul’s brows creased in concern. < ...

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