Thanks to my beta, Kayleigh! And thanks for all of your sweet reviews ❤︎

I can't promise one chapter a week, but I'll try to do one chapter every 2 weeks during the summer!

Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews!


The days fluttered past far too quickly for Nesta's liking, and before she knew it, Wednesday afternoon had arrived.

She walked quickly to Lucynthia's a million anxieties swimming in her head. Only half of them were irrational. She had arrived 5 minutes before the agreed time, though in typical Nesta fashion she of course had an excuse prepared to show that it wasn't that she cared too much — no, she simply adored Lucynthia's, and last time she heard it wasn't a crime to visit a cafe unless Rhysand had imposed a new law — just in case Cassian questioned her early arrival. Yet she had no need to worry about that because Cassian didn't arrive at 2:35 as they'd decided.

There was no need to panic. Meetings at Rhysand's place often took longer than expected, and Cassian would have no worthy excuse to leave without telling everyone Nesta's secret. So really there was nothing to worry about, Nesta told herself, watching the seconds' hand of the clock in the cafe loop around once, twice, thrice.

Everyone could be late. Nesta was frequently late to events both before and after she became fae, though it was usually to make a point. Her mother had called it being "fashionably late", to be just a few minutes late to make a dramatic entrance in order to leave an impact and lasting memory on those you were trying to impress — somehow they were always trying to impress someone or the other back when they were rich.

2:40 rolled around. It wasn't as though they'd be late, Nesta reminded herself. They had just wanted enough time to get there a bit early because it was the first appointment.

Maybe Cassian had been at the Illyrian camps, and it was taking him longer than expected to get back because of the direction of the wind. Nesta had no idea if such things truly mattered when flying, but it affected birds, so it would most likely have some impact on any form of wings.

At 2:46 and 30 seconds, Nesta began to wonder if Cassian had changed his mind. Perhaps he thought that it would be unwise to have a secret love child. Maybe Cassian had already had kids and had decided that raising one with Nesta would require too much effort. Perhaps he had simply been humoring her that day. Cassian probably didn't want to lie to his High Lord and Lady. What if he had already told them about the baby and didn't want to confront Nesta about it? What if he thought Nesta had been lying? Or that the baby wasn't his? Nesta hadn't really explained to him that she was sober and had a job. He was probably ashamed of having impregnated his High Lady's drunken, slutty, sorry excuse for a sister. He didn't want to be associated with the shameful, monstrous black sheep of their court. Maybe he thought he could do this for the baby but realized he couldn't stick around. Or maybe he had asked her to meet him here so that he could ask Feyre and Rhysand to come and get her and force her to live in one of their houses. Or-

Cassian arrived, sweat glistening on his arms and forehead, just as the clock showed 2:50.

"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, huffing slightly. "I came here as fast as I could, but Rhysand changed the meeting agenda and then Feyre and Amren wanted to talk about plans for Solstice. Then Mor started-"

Nesta cut him off with a sharp glance that indicated how little interest she had in his excuse. She was not in the mood to hear about the happenings of the Inner Circle, especially Morrigan .

Still, she was too relieved that he had actually showed up to say anything. She wordlessly stepped into his embrace, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist and torso, and slipping her own around his shoulders. Flights with Cassian were much smoother than the first one with Rhysand, but she wasn't eager to take chances at the moment.

They flew in awkward silence. It wasn't the silence itself that was awkward. It was the odd familiarity of being wrapped in Cassian's arms, along with the fact that despite his firm grip, his hold on her waist was strangely tender, that made Nesta itch to be back on solid ground.

They landed right in front of a small building. Nesta tried to check if there was a sign indicating the address of this building, but found no number in plain sight.

"It's this one," Cassian assured her, climbing the steps of the building. "I checked beforehand."

Nesta didn't let herself dwell on that fact, and simply followed him in.


As soon as she entered the waiting room, a female dressed in white entered the room.

Her dark hair was pinned up in a bun. She smiled cordially, and asked, "Are you Nesta Archeron?"

"Yes."

"Follow me."

Nesta followed the female into the next room, and sat on the bed as indicated. Cassian trailed behind her.

Once Cassian entered, the female shut the door.

"Hello, I'm Healer Sirona Galen." The female extended a hand. Nesta took it, somewhat unsure of what exactly she was supposed to do. Was she expected to kiss the female's hand the way men did when courting women?

The female shook her hand, then Cassian's. Cassian seemed just as bewildered.

The healer turned to the illyrian.

"I don't know how much Nesta has told you about me. I'm a very qualified healer, and completed education in the Dawn and Day courts to learn about different forms of healing. I've been practicing in the Night Court for over 120 years, although I have practiced in other courts before that."

Cassian nodded, seeming unsure about what he was supposed to do with the information.

"However, I have a very strict policy that I need you to abide by. I believe in absolute healer-confidentiality. I do not want High Lords to intervene in my patients' care. For this, I ask that you do not talk about me or disclose this location to others. My card can be provided to people who may need it, but please use your best judgment about that as well," the healer announced.

Cassian blinked. He then agreed quickly, after clearing his throat slightly.

"Any questions?"

He shook his head.

"Okay." The healer turned towards Nesta. "I'm going to ask you a few questions before examining you. Would you like him to stay?"

Nesta and Cassian awkwardly made eye contact before flitting their eyes away.

"Yes, he can stay," Nesta decided.

"I do not mean to be rude, but what is your relationship?"

It took Nesta a moment to understand the healer's question. She remained silent afterwards, unsure how to answer. Was there a label for willing to die together on the battlefield but then ignored each other afterwards except for when we slept together for one night resulting in a baby?

The healer clarified "Is he the biological father of the child, or a family member, friend, your partner, or some other relationship?"

"He's the father," Nesta answered. It felt strange calling Cassian a father, though she had no doubt he'd be a great father. What would the child call him, she wondered absently. Father? Papa? Dad?

The healer jotted something down, before sitting in the chair in front of the bed. The chair next to the bed was occupied by Cassian.

"Ok, Nesta, I'm going to ask you a few questions now. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or don't want to answer, let me know. Also please stop me if you have any questions," the healer began.

Nesta indicated her agreement.

"I know you communicated this slightly in your letter but how long ago do you think the date of conception was?"

"About 15 weeks ago." Nesta forced herself not to look at Cassian.

"And have you been sexually active after that date?"

"No." Don't blush, Nesta told her fae face. Do. not blush.

"Have you been experiencing any nausea?"

"Yes, I have," Nesta replied, relieved that it wasn't another embarrassing question.

She felt Cassian's worried eyes.

The healer wrote it down. "How frequently?"

"It was about every other day for the last month or so but I haven't felt very nauseous in the last week," she answered.

The healer nodded. "Have you had any pain?"

"Not much, just a bit of soreness in my chest and legs."

She hadn't thought much of it, but perhaps it was a bad sign. Would her baby be alright? Nesta felt herself beginning to panic. Cassian's worried face, which she really was trying to block out but couldn't help seeing in the corner of her eye, was not helping her keep her cool.

As if sensing her emotions, the healer assured, "Don't worry, those are normal symptoms. Nothing to be concerned about."

Some tension left her body. Cassian let out a long breath.

"How much exercise do you get everyday? How long are you on your feet?"

"I walk at least about 30 minutes each day, and I usually stand for at least about," Nesta glanced at the ceiling, trying to recall. "Maybe 4 or 5 hours a day."

The healer gave her a calm glance. "Make sure to get a moderate amount of exercise each day. What you're doing right now is great. Keep it going. In the later months, we can talk about different ways to keep exercising." Healer Galen glanced at her notepad. "Just a couple more questions left. Is this your first child?"

Nesta nodded.

"And how regular is your cycle?"

"It's very irregular," Nesta responded. "I didn't-" Nesta cut herself off before she said something she'd regret. I didn't think I could get pregnant in this body.

The healer frowned slightly. "How old were you when your cycle began?"

"Fourteen." Elain and feyre had both begun theirs two years after hers, when they were fifteen and fourteen respectively.

"And how old are you currently?"

"26."

The healer pressed her lips together. Was there an issue? Nesta had been worried about her reproductive organs' health, but thought that if she could get pregnant she had to be healthy enough. Had she been wrong? Would the baby not survive?

"How irregular?"

"I barely get my cycle."

"How often?"

Nesta tried to recall when it had been that she'd been curled up in bed alone, without enough energy to go search for medication. "About... twice a year?" she guessed.

Nesta glanced at the healer, thinking she'd see another worried expression on the female's face. Instead the female seemed confused.

"You get your cycle twice a year? About every six months?" she repeated.

Nesta nodded.

"I don't understand what's irregular? That seems fairly normal."

"What? No. I don't get my cycle for months."

"Yes, exactly." The healer was giving her a puzzled glance. "That's very healthy."

Was this a joke? But Cassian seemed confused as well.

The healer continued, "But you seemed to have started your cycle at a very young age. Is that a common age in your family?"

Nesta nodded again. She was baffled. 14 was a normal age to start your cycle, by all accounts in her village. Many girls got it earlier. But to not get your cycle every month was worrisome, especially when it failed to show up repeatedly.

"I don't usually like to ask my patients this," the healer sighed, "But would you mind telling me which region you're from? It could help me understand more about differences in your cycle, which could indicate some differences for your pregnancy."

"I'm from…" Nesta wasn't sure how to phrase it, but ended up with, "the south."

Which didn't mean much, since the Night Court was north of basically everywhere.

"Would you be willing to elaborate?" she inquired.

Nesta glanced at Cassian for help. There was no way that this healer would know where she was from by name.

"Do you have a map?" Cassian asked the healer.

"Of Prythian?"

"Yes."

The healer brought out a map. Nesta wondered why the healer would need a map, but decided not to ask because the item was actually proving helpful. Instead she pointed at her home village.

The healer cocked her head. "You lived in the Mortal Lands?"

"Yes."

The healer jotted something down, muttering, "Perhaps something in the food…"

The healer looked at her once more. "May I ask why you or your family chose to live in the Mortal Lands?"

"Because we were humans," Nesta blurted before glancing at Cassian.

His eyes were worried, but not about the information she had just revealed. His face mirrored all of Nesta's anxieties regarding her baby's health.

"You were human?" Nesta nodded. "And now you are fae?" Another nod.

The healer seemed bewildered for one moment. Then her composure returned.

"That explains it then," Healer Galen smiled, motioning at Nesta to lay down.

"Explains what?" Cassian asked. His voice was so unlike his usual carefree, jovial tone that Nesta did a double take.

"Humans' cycles begin at a younger age than fae. And I believe that human females have their cycle each month, unlike fae, who have it every six months."

Nesta jolted. It was normal for fae to have such a cycle? No wonder they had been giving her strange glances. She felt like an idiot.

"I'm going to start the examination now," Healer Galen announced. "First, I'll do a bit of magic to be able to detect your baby. I'm going to put my hands on your stomach and you'll feel a cold feeling, okay?"

Nesta took a deep breath, trying to relax. She managed to flinch only slightly at the sudden coolness on her stomach. The healer's eyes were shut for a minute. Cassian and Nesta looked at one another, unsure what they were supposed to be doing.

Healer Galen opened her eyes. "The child seems very healthy," she declared. She then explained, "For fae, we count the weeks of pregnancy starting at the lowest point in your estrogen cycle after conception. So that means that you're considered to be a bit over 13 weeks pregnant at this point."

Nesta and Cassian remained silent, so the healer went on. "You're out of the first trimester. Fae pregnancies are rare and fairly risky, but after the first trimester the risk of miscarriage significantly decreases. You should come in for an appointment every four weeks so that I can make sure everything's coming along smoothly. You'll be able to tell the gender at around 20 weeks. For now, you can listen to the heartbeat if you'd like."

The healer looked at them, awaiting a response. Both were stunned by all the information they'd just received, and it took them a moment to process it all.

"Yes, we'd like to hear it," Nesta responded, pushing down her emotions.

"Okay, please give me your hand."

The healer placed one hand from both Nesta and Cassian over Nesta's stomach, about a thumb's height away from touching her skin. The healer then muttered some sort of incantation.

A pulsing noise filled the air. They listened quickly until the noise faded away.

It was her child. To hear the heartbeat only reinforced the reality of the situation. She would have to care for an actual, tiny being. It was a real person.

"The heartbeat seemed very fast." Cassian's voice brought Nesta back out of her head.

The healer answered, "Fetal heartbeats are supposed to be much faster than the average adult. Your child's heartbeat is healthy and normal."


The flight back began as silently as the journey there. Both fae were contemplating the situation and were engulfed in a myriad of emotions.

"Thank you." Cassian's slightly hoarse voice broke the silence.

Sensing that Nesta did not understand what he was talking about, he added, "For letting me come."

"It's fine. You don't have to thank me," she replied crisply without looking at him.

Silence reigned once more for a few minutes.

"If you need anything," Cassian began again, "just let me know, okay?"

"Okay," Nesta answered, though it was obviously just for show. Nesta had no means of contacting Cassian besides mailing a letter and based on her one experience, it wasn't a method she was particularly eager to try.

Cassian seemed to sense her thoughts — she did not let wonder how.

"I'll give you some communication parchment when we land," he decided.

"Okay," she repeated montonely. She was thankful, even if she would never show it. She couldn't think of why she'd need to communicate with him, but he'd probably want to know if she were in labor.

"Okay," he breathed. "Has your nausea been bad?"

Nesta had no idea why he'd want to bring up the topic of nausea while flying. "It's fine. There was about a week or so when I spent my mornings and evenings dry heaving into a toilet, but recently it's gotten much better. I've barely felt it in the last week, like I said."

"Right, yeah." Cassian seemed nervous. It was an uncommon emotion for him, and Nesta had no idea why he was feeling it at the moment. "Do you want me to drop you off at Lucynthia's or… ?" he trailed off.

Nesta debated silently for a moment. She was pretty tired (and emotionally drained) so she'd appreciate it if he could take her to her house. She had avoided telling anyone in the Inner Circle where she now lived, but if Cassian was willing to keep the baby a secret, he probably wouldn't tattle about where she lived.

"You can fly to my house," she proposed, giving him directions.

They landed smoothly in front of her house.

Nesta wanted to go inside and curl up in bed with a novel and a cup of tea. So she had absolutely no idea why the words "Do you want to come inside?" left her lips.

Cassian seemed surprised. "Are you sure?"

No, she wasn't sure, but she also hated going back on decisions. She just unlocked the door and entered, holding it open to him.

Her house was fairly clean, though a few items of clothing were hanging from chairs and some dirty dishes were in the sink.

"Do you want some tea?"

"Sure, sweetheart." His swagger was slowly returning. She didn't know if that was good or bad. She disliked his facade, but it was easier to deal with Cocky Cassian than real Cassian who made her feel strange.

She busied herself in the kitchen preparing tea, then handed him a mug and sat down across the table from him with a mug of her own. She had no idea what to talk about.

Cassian's eyes explored her house before resting on a pile of books. "Have you been reading a lot?"

"I always read."

"I mean about the, um, pregnancy."

"I've done some research." Sensing that Cassian was desperately trying to start a conversation, she gave in. "I read about what foods to eat and what kinds of things to expect."

They continued the pregnancy-centric discussion until Cassian asked about her other reading material, novels.

"I doubt they'd be of interest to you," she quipped.

"Why's that sweetheart?"

"Because I doubt you can read."

He only grinned. "I can read well enough to know that most of your 'romance novels' are just smut."

"Was your bed so lonely that you needed smut to keep you company?"

"I think you know that my wingspan is enough to entice any female and even a few males."

No, his deep flirtatious voice did not affect her at all, Nesta reminded herself.

Although really, a small voice whispered in her head, You're already pregnant with his baby. Sleeping with him can't result in any more consequences.

"Shut up, I'm not doing that," she muttered to herself under her breath.

"If you must know, I've been reading this novel about a male trapped in dreams," she began. She thought Cassian would not care for the story, but his face showed interest, so she recounted the whole tale.

"And then?" Cassian asked when she stopped speaking.
"I haven't read the rest yet."

"Oh." A thought seemed to bloom in Cassian's mind, and his eyes twinkled. "Well, let me know what happens."

They spoke for a few more minutes, until Cassian glanced at the window, realizing it was already getting dark.

"I've got to get going." His tone was regretful.

To her surprise, Nesta was not pleased to see him leave. She had not hated conversing with him.

He continued, "I guess I'll see you next month, then?"

She nodded.

"Should I pick you up from here, or Lucyinthia's or somewhere else?"

"Here is fine." Her eyes were humorous as she added, "Don't be late."

He seemed startled, and blurted, "No I won't be" before realizing that she was kidding, which startled him once more.

Did people think she was incapable of joking?

He smiled. Before flying off, he professed, "Thank you… for tea." His serious, sincere tone made it clear that he was not thanking her for tea, but for everything.

Her eyes trailed his figure across the sky.


Although not visible through her clothes, Nesta's stomach was no longer flat, she realized as she dressed for work (and dinner at Brielle's) on saturday.

The female — Khoniya, Nesta reminded herself — was going to be at Brielle's house, and she knew about Nesta's pregnancy. Through the limited interaction they'd had, she didn't think the female was the type to talk about other people's business, but Nesta didn't want Brielle to find out from someone else about her pregnancy. It wasn't that Brielle would put up a fuss or even say anything if she realized that Nesta hadn't told her, but Nesta valued her and their friendship (though the word itself still startled her) too much for her to find out indirectly. It was strange how someone who she'd met only for about a month ago could mean so much to her.

So after work, as they walked to Brielle's house, Nesta declared softly, "I have to tell you something."

"Alright," Brielle replied, her tone light and curious.

It didn't have to be a big deal, Nesta told herself. There was no reason to be this nervous. "I'm pregnant," she announced.

Brielle smiled. Well, her lips were always upturned and her cheeks were always flexed—but when she heard Nesta's comment, she grinned.

"That's fabulous," Brielle began before pausing to look at Nesta, as if confirming that her statement was correct. She seemed to note both Nesta's nervousness and joy. "I mean… are you keeping it? Are you happy about it?" she inquired, as if feeling regretful for her premature outburst of joy.

When Nesta nodded, Brielle seemed relieved—not that Nesta was keeping the child, but that she hadn't accidentally offended her friend.

"Let me know if I can help in any way," she babbled excitedly. Her words echoed Cassian's, ruining Nesta's attempt to not think about the father of her child.

"Oh, this explains why you were feeling tired and nauseous the other day. I was actually a bit worried that day, but I'm glad you're doing alright. Better than alright, really. Oh, how far along are you? Or would you rather not tell me?" Brielle rambled, her eyes wide. Nesta suppressed the urge to giggle. Brielle looked like a young over-excited child despite being far older than Nesta.

"I'm about 13 or 14 weeks at this point," she informed her.

"Wow! Can you feel the baby yet? Oh, and also please let me know if you ever need to leave early for appointments or when you need to rest before the baby comes. You can take as much time off as you want. Do you know the gender?" Brielle continued, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sorry, am I asking too many questions? I don't mean to overwhelm you."

"It's fine," Nesta replied. Brielle's questions amused her more than they annoyed her. "I'll let you know if I need to take time off in the last month or so, but for now the appointments are when we don't have work. And no, I haven't felt the baby and we can't find out the gender yet." Nesta hadn't realised she'd switch pronouns until Brielle enquired, "We?"

Before Nesta had time to formulate an answer, Brielle blurted, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to overstep. You don't have to tell me. Please don't feel obliged, just because I asked, to-"

"The father of the baby is, um, going to be involved, but we're not… together," Nesta explained clumsily, as they climbed the steps to Brielle's house.

It was larger than any house Nesta had ever lived in — except for when she'd lived at Feyre's, of course — but as she entered, Nesta realized that it was still fairly modest.

There was a living room to the left of the entryway, and the kitchen and dining room were to the right, along with a small restroom. On the second floor, there were two bedrooms and a larger bathroom, Brielle told her as they took off their shoes and went to the kitchen.

Brielle laid the table with foods she'd prepared beforehand and had kept in some sort of magical coolant box. Nesta had been surprised to see it, and Brielle had been surprised at Nesta's surprise. "It's quite a simple contraption. They're very common in the Day Court," Brielle said.

Brielle heated a few of the different foods and also cooked something new — to be quite honest, Nesta was not a very experienced cook and therefore had no idea what Brielle was doing. Perhaps, Nesta thought to herself idly, she should look into learning a bit more about cooking before the baby arrived, although really it wasn't as if the child would eat anything she cooked for about a year.

Nesta offered to help Brielle, but the latter waved her off. Upon her insistence, Brielle agreed to let Nesta set the table. After the task was done, Nesta studied the house as Brielle finished up her cooking.

The house was decorated simply. The dining room had a chestnut colored table with four matching chairs. A small wreath of white flowers hung on the wall. Large windows allowed for sunlight streamed through, brightening the rooms.

The living room had two sofas and a small, round table in the middle. On the table was a dark gray ornamental vase with thin gold marble-like lines. The vase contained a single stem of yellow orchids.

Brielle followed Nesta's gaze.

"That vase has been in my family for a couple generations," Brielle noted.

What did that mean, in this world where children were rare and parents were immortal? How many years — or centuries — had this vase belonged to Brielle's family?

Brielle continued dreamily, "Every time the vase breaks, the pieces are put together again and the cracks are filled with gold. It's supposed to be a symbol that being broken doesn't diminish your value, but instead, surviving that makes you more beautiful and resilient than before."

Brielle tore her eyes away from the artifact and returned to her task, leaving Nesta to continue her silent observation.

The vase was beautiful — and valuable in a way that no jewelry or artifact in Feyre's grand palace could compare. In the sunlight, the golden cracks in the vase sparkled. It contrasted deeply with the dark hue of the vase, and yet somehow the two complimented each other, as though breaking and healing had been the vase's fate from the start to result in such a unique object. Perhaps, someday, the vase would break once more, and would transform into something new — no longer the object Nesta peered at, despite having the same parts.

Nesta had no idea how long she stood, mesmerized by the vase. When the doorbell rang, the food had been laid out on the table and Brielle was putting away the newly cleaned pans she'd used to cook.

"Hello! Thanks so much for inviting me," Khoniya said as she entered. She removed her shoes and black coat, revealing her white and navy dress, and unwrapped the thin gray scarf around her head. Her long bright hair tumbled across her back in natural waves, standing out against the brown skin. Her hair was the color of persimmon, yet as she closed the door and stepped into a shadow, it darkened to resemble red maple leaves.

"Hello," she greeted Nesta. "I'm Khoniya."

"Nesta," she replied quietly.

Brielle ushered them into the dining room and they sat down to eat.

"How have you been?" Brielle asked Khoniya.

Perhaps Nesta shouldn't have come. She would not enjoy another dinner as an outsider to already established friendships. She had been getting along so well with Brielle. She shouldn't have jinxed it.

"I've been doing… okay. It's nice to get a break from Yaran though," Khoniya answered. She turned to look at Nesta. "Yaran is my son. I love him so much, but three year olds are tiring."

Why was Khoniya speaking to her about this? Did she want to discuss pregnancy and children with Nesta?

"How long have you been working at the shop?" Khoniya asked her.

"About a month now."

"Why did you choose to work there, if you don't mind me asking?"

Nesta recounted the story of how she'd found the shop and decided to become an employee.

Khoniya seemed delighted. "Brielle, thank goodness you found someone to help you! You're so smart but I knew there was no way the shop had just fixed itself," she smirked softly.

"Hey! It wasn't that bad!" Brielle interjected playfully.

"It really was," Khoniya responded, giving Nesta a mock-serious look that begged for reinforcement.

So Nesta gave Brielle a mock-serious nod.

"You guys are so mean to me. Next time I won't make you food," Brielle pouted.

Nesta and Khoniya quickly retracted their statements.

"No, no, Brielle, we're sorry. Please we'll do anything for your food," Khoniya begged jokingly.

The food was delicious. It was home-cooked, unlike any other meal she'd had since arriving in the fae world (except a few meals she'd made herself but those really did not count as meals), and yet was so much tastier than many of the finest dishes at restaurants or even Feyre's palaces. Granted, Feyre's foods were always sprinkled with awkwardness and blame that ruined the flavor, while Brielle's special touch of kindness added to the enjoyment.

So, Nesta giddily added, "Please Brielle" and fluttered her eyelashes playfully.

"Fiiiiine." Brielle rolled her eyes. "But only because you asked so nicely and you really did save my shop," she muttered to Nesta.

Khoniya laughed, breaking the facade of the mock-argument. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Brielle was giggling and then Nesta was laughing as well.

She hadn't consumed a single sip of alcohol, yet she felt like she was floating.

And while Nesta couldn't think of a single reason why Khoniya would want to get to know Nesta, as the red-haired female spoke to her once more, Nesta couldn't find it in her to care.

She felt lighter than she had in years, and not even her own anxieties could weigh her down.


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