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Kindling the Flame of Hope
The forest, alive with whispers and the soft rustle of leaves, seemed to breathe with secrets.

Every tree loomed like a silent sentinel, watching as Peter and Millie made their way through familiar paths. Millie moved differently now, her steps lighter, more attuned to the rhythms of the wilderness.

She no longer walked with the stiff, rigid posture of someone bracing for an attack. Instead, there was a fluidity to her movements, as if the forest itself had taught her how to blend with the shadows.

Her instincts had sharpened. With each step, she subtly shifted, positioning herself between the children they protected and the unseen dangers lurking beyond the trees. The contrast between her former life and the warrior she had become was stark. She was no longer merely surviving—she was protecting, shielding the innocent in ways she had never been shielded.

Peter watched her, his gaze steady and thoughtful. He didn’t look at her with desire, as a lover might, but with the careful scrutin
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