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... he’s asleep.

This mansion may be gorgeous, but I still can’t wait to go home. To my home.

I use my walking stick and follow the patterned path Damon made just for me. Every step is precise, rehearsed, familiar. I paused when I reached the indoor garden nestled at the center of the mansion. With my fingertips, I traced the smooth glass wall that encased it, walking slowly along its curve.

The structure was vast, and what lay within—breathtaking.

Rare flora bloomed ...

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