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Chapter 146: Morning Entanglements
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Chapter 148: Not Charity
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... g across the kitchen’s warm wood and turning Harin’s hair to fire where it caught the rays. The table was scattered with the remains of their breakfast: empty mugs, toast crusts, a nearly-gone bowl of fruit. From somewhere down the hall, the faint scent of fresh laundry mingled with brewing coffee, creating a bubble of domestic peace—one that felt both new and heartbreakingly fragile.
Harin was perched on the kitchen counter, knees drawn up to her chest, scrolling absently through the no ...
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