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Emma’s POV: It’s funny how the mind always wants to hold on to the past and preserve what was once good. It forces you to think back to old times— a constant reminder that it hasn’t always been this way. It forces me to remember laughter and warmth, arms engulfing me, sweeping me around in the air, a playful voice exclaiming over my new dress, over my injured face, always talking, always saying, I’ve missed you, Emmy, and that’s my girl right there, and they’ll never be who you are. And when I see the furious muscle ticking in his jaw, it tells me that my hands have been there before, my lips have touched that spot to kiss his cheek. It makes me look at him and see not Nicollai Andretti, the member of a criminal organization, nor a nameless, faceless inmate, but instead— “Nico.” I