The air was warm, her sheets tangled her limbs. Yet her pulse still pounded in her ears. She was home. Alive. But the memory clung to her — the cold steel, Elena’s scream, the coppery scent of blood. There was no marked date for her execution, but she knew, but before she can process she heard Elena's voice downstairs calling for her "darling! come eat or your food is gonna get cold!i called you like 8 times now!"
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