Trista’s POVAs soon as I removed my contact lens - instant relief. I rubbed them and squinted into the mirror. I’ve had my eyes checked several times by optometrists. I even went to see a renowned specialist in Italy. He said it was strange because there was nothing wrong with my optic nerves or my actual eyes. But for some reason, my vision is still really poor. I got contacts when I moved to Italy so I didn’t have to wear my ugly, clunky glasses anymore.My face was blurry in the mirror now because my contacts were gone.“Sorry,” my wolf, Salina, whispered. I don’t hear from her very often. Because of her disability, she’s really quiet and shy, much quieter than other wolves. I could feel her pacing around, though. She’d been a little restless since we landed, and even more so since we got to the restaurant. She can sense the familiarity of this place, and the unease that comes with it.“It’s okay,” I whispered back to her. “It’s not your fault.”For a moment, my nerves got the bet
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