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Chapter 42: The Heat of the Kitchen
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Chapter 44: The Space Between Us
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... ky had already begun to dim.
Paris wore twilight differently than the city I had left behind. The light didn’t disappear all at once—it softened, thinned, lingered as if reluctant to go. Streetlamps blinked on one by one, casting long reflections across wet stone from an earlier rain.
My hands hurt.
Not sharply. Not enough to make me stop using them.
The ache was dull and persistent, the kind that settled into the bones and reminded you that you had pushed yoursel ...
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