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“Beck!” Her hands fly to her mouth, then down over her heart. “It’s beautiful.”
I fasten it around her neck. The tiny clover catches the light. It glimmers.
“For luck?” she whispers.
“For the girl who makes her own.”
She blinks fast, trying not to cry. “Remember that St. Patrick’s Day when I said I wanted to get lucky?”
I grin slowly. I’ll never forget. “Yeah?”
Gracie leans up, her lips brushing my ear.
“I had no idea how lucky I already was.”
THE END
