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When Dean fell asleep, Jo went through his stuff and, on a whim, tried on one of Dean’s shirts, pulling the flannel over her head. She caught her own eye in the mirror and her heart stopped.
Oh.
Oh.
This, this Jo remembers vividly, like the moment is tattooed into their skin. The way she had tugged her hair back, holding it away so she could imagine that it’s gone, and looking at herself.
There you are, they remember thinking. Like she’d recognized an old friend from a long distance.
There you are. I missed you. -
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