And then their hands found each other in a subtle yet profound connection.

“Aisha.” His murmur held a weight of realization, an unraveling truth echoing through his consciousness.

“Leon, I’m Millie.” She gently withdrew her hand, a step backwards. “Is sorrow your specter, conjuring phantoms?”

No, hallucinations did not cloud his senses.

In this ephemeral juncture, Leon’s phone resonated with an urgent melody—a call from Claudia.

“Got it.”

concluded the call by ending it. Claudia had

Millie‘s cautious retreat, a chasm of ache formed in his chest, a whisper of regret tracing its

forceful demand for her to exchange

Such a ludicrous spectacle.

across his gaze, her own

Angela’s Library

shall take my leave,” Millie declared, a waiting taxi becoming her escape

as the car departed. Once the vehicle had faded into the distance, he proceeded to unlatch his car door and enter. One cigarette succeeded another, a series of bitter inhalations punctuating the farcical nature of his

the discarded cigarette butts strewn across the ground, the assistant became privy to the relentless smoking, as if each puff were an enactment of his lung’s preordained folly. Igniting yet another cigarette, the interior of the car swiftly became veiled in a

with uncertainty. Could Leon’s profound distress

to witness their highly esteemed boss in a state of despondency. After pondering for a while, a decision crystallized: it was time to inform Leon that Fiona

investigation had determined Fiona to be an incorrect lead in your

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