She never imagined that a quiet afternoon in the countryside would become the dividing line between the life she knew and the one she would have to rebuild. Elira had always loved visiting her grandmother’s village. It was the kind of place where mornings smelled like fresh bread and grass still wet with dew, where time moved slowly, and where people greeted each other by name. For her, it was an escape from the noise of the city—a return to something softer, simpler, and more grounded. That summer, she had come to stay for a few weeks. At twenty-six, she...
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