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... tartled Cheon Hae-Won from her trance-like state. She’d been staring at the same spot on her desk for the past five minutes, not seeing the polished wood surface but instead replaying memories that made her face burn with shame.
The phantom sensation of Rome’s fingers lingered on her skin, a constant reminder of what had happened in that storage room.
She glanced down at her phone.
We need to talk. After homeroom. —R
Her heart lurched in her chest. For a moment, s ...
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