Iseult sat in her cottage, tracing her husband’s photograph, clinging to the hope that he was still alive. One night, a knock on the door shattered her doubts. Breathless, she opened it to find him standing there, tears of joy filling her eyes as she whispered “I knew you’d come back to me!” But worry flooded her heart at his pale face and shadowed eyes “What happened to you? You don’t look well.” she asked, brushing her hand over his cheek, her joy tempered by concern
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