XV. Welcome to Milan

โ‹„ ๐•ธ๐–†๐–—๐–Ž๐–“๐–† ๐•ฌ๐–—๐–Š๐–‘๐–‘๐–†๐–“๐–” โ‹„

The first time I got on a plane, I remember tracing the shapes of the clouds on the window with my fingertips, feeling special. I was in the sky, my mom was smiling, and I was finally going to have a dad.

Now, the clouds still form the same way, but I donโ€™t dare try...

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