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Chapter 129: The Search Begins
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Chapter 131: The Watcher and the Weaver
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... to walk, but the comfortable silence from before had turned heavy and strange. I had finished the last sweet, sticky bite of the puto bumbong, but he hadn’t said a word. He just kept walking a half-step ahead of me, his gaze fixed forward, never glancing back to check on me. The distance between us, though small, felt like a growing chasm.
My fingers rose to touch the red rose hairpin he had bought for me, its cool metal a small comfort. I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm th ...
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