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Chapter 11: Jaded

She stares at me like I’m some magical creature that crawled out from a mystical place instead of the child she left to be raised by her heartbroken mate. After staring for a minute and a few tears, she wipes her hands on her thighs and chuckles nervously. She moves to touch my cheek, but I recoil from her touch.

“You are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” she whispers.

“Who is Waylon?” I say accusatory.

She winces at my question, her eyes immediately darting away from mine as she reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling the door open. Elara sticks her head out and tugs me along with her. I hate how her hand in mine is comforting, like a nice cup of tea after hours in the snow warming me from the inside out. I want to hate her, be mad at her for not fighting harder to come back to us, to me. But I’m old enough to know that life is never as easy as making one singular decision.

I squeeze her hand, trying to keep my tears at bay. The conflicting emotions are more than I ant
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