The Girl Who Loved to Bake

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The lavender scent of the tower, once a reminder of loss, now held a different meaning. The garden, vibrant with color, was no longer a memory, but a reality I had created for myself. The tower, no longer a prison, was a monument to my resilience, a testament to the strength I had found within. I had survived, not just the darkness, but the echoes of it. My heart, once a fragile thing, was now a fortress of resilience, a beacon of hope for others who had been lost.

I was Yannah, the woman who had risen from the ashes, and my story was just beginning.