The gravel crunched softly beneath the tires as she eased the vintage convertible Volkswagen to a stop. The car radio hissed with static, Katharine Hepburn’s voice crackling through the twilight like a story from another era. I curled into the soft backseat, a cashmere blanket bundling our warm bodies together as the sweet scent of caramel popcorn mingled with jasmine and cedarwood from her hair, swirling into a tender haze in the close space.
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