EPILOGUE, ACT II
Ana
AFTER TROY HAD his chance to snoop around my diary, I finally retrieved it, jotting down a note I’d been meaning to make.
I part the journal not quite on its final pages, but toward the end, revisiting the mind of that na?ve young girl with the rusty white skates and a dream.
Keep going.
Even when you don’t know why.
One day you might.
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