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Weekly Contest #339
The first time Mara learned how heavy water could be, she was seven years old, standing barefoot at the edge of a swimming pool while her father counted softly behind her. “Trust it,” he said. “It’ll hold you.” She didn’t trust anything back then—not the water, not the sky when it darkened without warning, not the way her mother’s laughter sometimes disappeared mid-sentence like it had slipped through a crack in the floor. Still, she jumped, and the water swallowed her whole, pressed against her chest, her limbs, her thoughts. It wasn’t crue...
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