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... uine, was a melody I was fast becoming addicted to. It echoed in the quiet space of the studio, chasing away any lingering shadows. We sat there on the worn sofa, the empty pizza box a casualty of our shared meal, the atmosphere light and buzzing with a new kind of energy. Her agreeing to come to the gala felt like a bigger victory than the completion of the Phoenix itself.
"I’ll love that," I said, still smiling at her playful boast about stealing the show. "The world should see you. Al ...
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