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... ive white casts resting lazily like hibernating polar bears. The penthouse living room surrounds us in muted luxury. Boston glitters beneath us, tiny cars and tinier people moving in miniature, a world I used to belong to.

The massive television mounted on the wall flickers with bright colors, the roar of engines filling the room as Formula 1 cars tear around a track at impossible speeds. I'm only half paying attention.

"So that's Valentina," Caterina says, her breath warm agains ...

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