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... warmth.
They were moving again.
The truck rolled slowly along the cracked highway, its tires crunching over debris and old bones bleached by time and weather. Mist swirled at the edges of the world, thinner here but still watching, still waiting.
Leo was curled in Zara’s lap, thumb tucked into his mouth, hair matted with sleep. Every bump in the road jolted his small frame, but he didn’t stir.
Winter sat across from them, head leaned back, fingers resting lightly ...
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