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Sofia sat cross-legged on the soft grass, watching a butterfly dance from flower to flower in her grandmother's garden. The afternoon sun painted everything golden, but Sofia's mind was somewhere else entirely. She twisted a blade of grass between her fingers, her dark curls catching the light. "Grandma," she said suddenly, looking up at the older woman who was gently pruning roses nearby, "what happens to butterflies when winter comes? Do they... do they know they won't see spring?" Her grandmother paused, secateurs in hand, and smiled that special smile she saved for Sofia's biggest questions.
"Oh, my curious one," Grandma said, settling onto the garden bench and patting the space beside her. Sofia scrambled up, tucking her legs beneath her favorite purple dress. "That's quite a question for such a sunny day." Sofia leaned against her grandmother's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender soap. "I was thinking about Mrs. Chen's cat, Whiskers. She said he went to sleep and didn't wake up. But where did he really go, Grandma? Where do we all go?" The butterfly they'd been watching landed on a nearby marigold, its wings still as stained glass.
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