Sage Summers

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The night air covered Miel. The cold threaded through her, and in the hollow of the wind she heard the sad murmur of her mother’s voice. To everyone else, it would sound like the warning of a storm. But if Miel listened, if she shut her eyes and found that humming under the wind, she heard her mother, caught between this life and leaving it.
When the Moon Was Ours
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