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 implored him

a chasm of ache formed in his

of Millie kneeling before him, a memory intertwined with his forceful demand for her to exchange Lois. Placing a pen at her throat, he aimed

Such a ludicrous spectacle.

on Millie, agony painted across his gaze, her own unease began

Angela’s Library

leave,” Millie declared, a waiting taxi becoming

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

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

grappled with uncertainty. Could Leon’s profound

After pondering for a while, a decision crystallized: it was time to inform Leon that Fiona was not, in fact, Aisha. His sorrow need not be carried

I neglected to apprise you that our investigation had determined Fiona to be an incorrect lead in your pursuit. She is not Aisha. Rather, she is an imposter who underwent plastic surgery,” the

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