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Holly & Tristan

Holly and Tristan

Three Years Later – Holly’s P.O.V.

The breeze was blissfully cold against my skin, the sunlight a slight tingle that rippled over my exposed arms and shoulders.

Winter was approaching, tainting the air with its crisp scent. No matter how much I ventured outdoors and basked in the sunlight, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get enough. Even though I burned easily—thank you, Vampire genetics—it was a wonderful taste of freedom that I’d never take for granted.

The shrill screams of children playing pierced my ears. I didn’t find it irksome the way some of the parents here did. Despite how loud they were, their wails were full of joy and innocence that could never be replicated or replaced.

I looked up from the stack of papers in my hands, focusing on the children racing across the mulch just ten feet away. The tiny font had been giving me a headache for the past two hours now.

“Honey, you need to stop and tie your shoe! You’re going to trip and fall.” The woman on the bench beside
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