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.

retreat, a chasm of ache formed in his chest, a whisper of regret tracing its

memory intertwined with his forceful demand for her to exchange Lois. Placing a pen at her throat, he aimed to coerce Marcus into releasing Fiona

Such a ludicrous spectacle.

Leon fixated on Millie, agony painted across his gaze,

Angela’s Library

my leave,” Millie declared, a waiting taxi becoming

car departed. Once the vehicle had faded into the distance, he proceeded to unlatch his car door and enter.

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

uncertainty. Could Leon’s

of empathy, the assistant found it difficult 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 was not, in fact, Aisha. His

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