The rain fell like a divine sentence over the dark, lonely highway on the outskirts of Medellín. It wasn’t a gentle drizzle, but a furious storm pounding the asphalt with violence, mirroring the chaos reigning in Valentina’s heart. There she was—a white, ghostlike figure outlined against the immensity of the night—kneeling beside the trunk of a centuries-old ceiba tree. Her …
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