He turned. Lydia stood there—same crooked smile, same messy bun, same faded Echoes of Aether hoodie. She looked younger. Brighter. Like she had been preserved in amber.
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He turned. Lydia stood there—same crooked smile, same messy bun, same faded Echoes of Aether hoodie. She looked younger. Brighter. Like she had been preserved in amber.