Thalassa and Lysander were cozied up at the dinner table, indulging in a delicious meal. Just as they were about to finish, Thalassa's phone rang. She picked it up to see Hertha calling. Without hesitation, she answered.

"Thalassa, what are you up to? Oh, right, you've just pulled off a wedding heist, must be all lovey-dovey with Lysander, sickeningly sweet. Unlike me, feeling like I've been put through the wringer, heart, liver, spleen, stomach, and kidneys, all aching," Hertha's voice came through the phone, laden with a wish-to-cry despondence.

Sensing something was off with Hertha, Thalassa asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's too much to explain over the phone. Can we meet in person? Do you have time?" Hertha sighed.

Hertha, usually so vibrant and cheerful, sounded so downhearted that Thalassa sensed something serious was amiss.

Covering the mouthpiece, she looked over at Lysander for approval, "Hertha needs me, is it okay if I step out for a bit?" Lysander dabbed his mouth with a napkin and asked, "Are you done eating?"

"Yeah, I'm full," Thalassa nodded.

ahead, then," Lysander

hurriedly stood

Lysander's low, magnetic

smile, Thalassa said, "Then I'm

out while Lysander instructed Fitch, "Have the

sir," Fitch sprang

Hertha by the lake

on a bench, facing the lake. The breeze lifted her wig slightly, casting

her like this, Thalassa's

an arm around Hertha's shoulders, and tried to lighten the mood, "What's got our 'sunshine' so down? Is it that time of year when

the past, not to

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