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.”

the call by ending it. Claudia had implored him

cautious retreat, a chasm of ache formed in his

for her to exchange Lois. Placing a pen at her throat, he aimed to coerce Marcus into releasing

Such a ludicrous spectacle.

on Millie, agony painted across his

Angela’s Library

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

refrained from intervening; he merely observed 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

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 cloud

Could Leon’s profound

a state of despondency. After pondering for a while, a decision crystallized: it was time to inform Leon that Fiona was not, in fact,

lead in your pursuit. She is not Aisha. Rather, she is an imposter who underwent plastic

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