OSTARA’S POVI gently untangled Donna’s arms and sat beside her on the bench, the late afternoon sun flickering through the trees above us.“I’ll text Bethany,” I said, reaching into my bag. “She can take you back to the hotel, okay?”Donna nodded obediently, though her little face still carried that lingering sadness from the ward.“Hey,” I said, tipping her chin up lightly, “you don’t have to go in tomorrow if you don’t want to. You can take the day to think about it, see how you’re feeling.”She looked thoughtful, almost too mature for eight years old. “I’ll be okay, I think” she said. “If you’re both with me, I won’t get scared.”Her words settled in the space between us, too honest, too pure to ignore. I felt Anthony’s eyes on me before I looked at him. Our gazes met for the briefest moment — an unspoken exchange of something neither of us was brave enough to define. It was such a simple sentence, but it hit with weight. I didn’t answer. Neither did Anthony. We just… looked at e
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