Declan’s POV Colorado was an incredibly beautiful place, but it was beautiful in the specific way a landscape looks when you are too miserable to actually appreciate the scenery. The Rocky Mountains were visible through my windshield every single morning when I drove to the training facility. They were enormous, white-capped, and entirely indifferent to the fact that the bond had become a heavy, stretched ache in the center of my chest from the exact moment my flight lifted off the tarmac in Rhode Island. The altitude increased, the distance turned into thousands of miles of geography, and my mind stayed behind. I drove past those peaks every day and noted their scale the way you note a fact in a textbook; you know it is significant, but you cannot actually feel it because your attention is fixed somewhere else. My attention was always fixed two thousand miles to the east, inside a third-floor apartment with a doorless bedroom, a corner grocery store, and a woman studying tort l
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