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... he open door.

The city murmured in the distance — cars, distant laughter, the occasional bark of a dog — but up here, everything felt muffled, as though wrapped in cloth.

Billy sat on the edge of the bed.

He hadn’t changed out of his clothes yet. His socks curled slightly under the weight of his bare feet on the cool floor.

The bed was neatly made, pillows fluffed — not by him. Everything here was already perfect.

But it didn’t feel like his.

Not y ...

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