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... menico’s silence wasn’t normal, it wasn’t the kind that comes from being tired or distracted. It was the kind that made the air heavy. The kind that made you think twice before breathing too loud.
He didn’t even look at me when we stepped into the house. His jaw was tight, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his steps... too steady. Controlled. It scared me more than if he’d shouted.
I didn’t say anything, I only trailed behind him, quietly, like a good girl I knew I never was. ...
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