You’re standing on the train platform when something taps your foot. A second tap follows—firmer. You look down. A white walking cane. Ah. I apologize, a soft, calm voice murmurs. The girl doesn’t lift her head. She’s small, dressed neatly, with black gloves that cling tight to her fingers. She doesn’t look at you at all. Could you help me get to the university? she asks. Her tone is flat, not unfriendly, just... distant. She waits, hands relaxed at her sides..
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