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... histled in from the mountain, sometimes biting cold, sometimes oddly warm, like winter and autumn were fighting over who owned the sky.
Inside, a polished stone mirror leaned against the wall. It was something Isabella made months ago. At that time, she had been so obsessed with staring at herself in the mirror. Now, it had become her greatest enemy.
Isabella stood in front of it, hands pressed against her waist.
Her waist, that used to be slim and easy to hug with one ar ...
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