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The morning sun filtered through the kitchen window as I prepared Mother's herbal tea, my hands trembling slightly as they had been for weeks now. The anxiety that had been plaguing me as Luna seemed to seep into every aspect of my life, making even simple tasks feel overwhelming. I steadied my breathing, focusing on the familiar ritual of steeping the chamomile—anything to quiet the constant flutter in my chest. A sharp cry from the garden shattered the morning calm. I dropped the teacup, porcelain fragments scattering across the floor as I rushed outside. The sight that greeted me made my blood turn to