“It’s good luck to have a butterfly land on you,” she whispered. “If you make a wish, the butterfly will fly away and use its magic to make your wish come true.” “I’ve never heard that before.” His voice sounded hoarse. “Of course not. I made it up just now.” “Well, if you made it up, then it must be true.” Her lips curved playfully and her eyes dipped to linger on his mouth; he was smiling too, broadly, helplessly, undignified dimple on display. “Will you make a wish?” she prompted. Rafe made a wish. A wish so bold and true that the butterfly immediately took flight. He followed it with his
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