The Jerusalem sun, a familiar warmth even years later, cast long shadows across the stone floor of their home. For Sarah, the ache of Desmond's absence was a quiet resident, a constant hum beneath the surface of her days. His last words, a whispered promise of enduring love, were a treasure she kept locked within her heart. Life, in its relentless march, had carried her forward, yet a part of her soul remained in the echo of his laughter. Then, on a still Friday evening, as the city exhaled into
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