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... d, phone pressed against his ear.

Olivia’s voice filtered through, bright with end-of-day energy as the sounds of a busy street hummed in the background.

“You’re walking again, aren’t you?” he asked, already picturing her weaving through students and street vendors, probably with a lopsided tote bag hanging off her shoulder.

“Yeah. My stupid class ran late and I missed the bus. Again,” Olivia groaned.

“And then I stopped to grab a croissant, which I immediately dr ...

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