A SMILE AT THE DOOR
Freen stepped out of the car, the light of the fading sun casting a soft golden hue over her. Her white shirt clung neatly to her frame, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, hair loosely tied back. But what struck Becky the most was the gentle smile on her face. It wasn't her usual guarded, professional expression it was soft, like she was genuinely at peace for a moment. And for some reason, it made Becky's breath hitch.

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