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... oward the night sky. The stars were faint against the city lights, but they were there—watching, distant, indifferent.
I exhaled sharply, my thoughts drifting."The marriage she turned into war..." I muttered to myself. "This novel—I still don't understand why the author wrote such a cruel plot. Why did they want Samuel to suffer so much?"
I clenched my fists.
I had lived two lives before this. In my first life, reading this novel had dragged me into months of depression. ...
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