The room bore the scars of her frenzy. Leon approached Millie, his concern surfacing. “Are you unharmed?”

Millie shook her head, stepping back cautiously. “I am intact.”

Millie entered the room, saying, “I’ll fetch the design drawing. Please wait.”

In the room, Millie rubbed her scratched arm from the carton.

Fiona teetered on the brink of madness, propelled from destitution to opulence, and now hurled back to her origins. Such a drastic shift often carried a poignant ache of acceptance.

Yet sympathy found no place within Fiona’s narrative, for her own choices sculpted this trajectory.

Millie procured the design draft and blinked in surprise

a pause, Millie extended the draft. “Here lies the

gaze fixed on the blueprint with an intensity

recalled something and inquired, “Why did

the design, his gaze

Davies. The name

family, he’d donned simple black T-shirt, embroiled in brawls day by day. Over time, the pain lost its sting, and the hardship ceased

new name and attire, yet the

profound anguish. He believed he’d found his life’s devotion, only

“Preserving some past memories is worthwhile. But we

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