Our cottages come into view, looking like a matching set. The only difference being that mine is gray while hers is a pale blue. I pause with her at the end of her driveway. “Thank you for a pleasant walk,” Juliette says with the formality of a royal. I dip my chin in a nod. She smiles in that secretive way again, the kind that makes me feel like she knows something I don’t, before turning and walking to her door. My eyes trail over her, the delicate curve of her hip, her black tights stretched over her legs. Each time she takes a step the hem of her plaid skirt lifts and falls in the most
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