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12. ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐๐ซ๐ข๐œ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž

Morning did not arrive with sunlight.

It seeped in cautiously, slipping through tall glass windows and stretching pale lines across marble floors and leather sofas where no one had truly slept. The house felt differentโ€”altered in a way that couldnโ€™t be measured or named. As if something ancient had passed through its walls and left behind a shadow that refused to lift.

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