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.”

ending it.

ache formed in his chest, a whisper of regret tracing

with his forceful demand for her to exchange Lois. Placing a pen at

Such a ludicrous spectacle.

on Millie, agony painted across his gaze, her own

Angela’s Library

declared, a

into the distance, he proceeded to unlatch his car door and enter. One cigarette

you alright?” inquired Leon’s assistant upon arrival. Noting 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.

grappled with uncertainty. Could Leon’s profound distress be attributed to Fiona’s

esteemed boss in a state of despondency. 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

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