“How’s your injury holding up?” Harlan inquired, his gaze shifting to Marcus’s arm, his demeanor earnest.

“I’m still holding on,” Marcus responded.

The glass found its reprieve upon the table as Marcus unshackled his tie with a casual grace.

“Give me a ring before you can’t hold on, and I’ll whisk you away to Raven Island, rescuing you from the depths of hell.”

Marcus let out a derisive snort, retorting, “Well, thanks then.”

For the ensuing duration, the room succumbed to quietude, with both occupants displaying a penchant for reticence.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Marcus’s phone resonated with a

with stars, a whispered tale

of stars adorned the canvas

slight grin, Marcus typed a few

my absence leave a void in

vaguely recalled the notion that if a girl sent images like cerulean skies

Millie’s response arrived.

yourself. I just want to share the beauty

with a self-assured

Marcus engaged in conversation

Harlan surmised that he must be conversing with Millie. Left with nothing

cessation, its allure undeniable. And

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