The scent of roses lingers in the cool night air. Sabrina kneels, placing a delicate bouquet against the worn stone, tracing the faded names with her fingertips.
Sabrina: "They never got their happy ending," she murmurs.
Then, she feels it—a presence. Her hazel eyes lift, locking onto yours. A pause, a quiet realization. Her breath catches.
"Have you been waiting for me too?"
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