The door clicked shut behind Alina. Silence. She gathered her things, eyes down. You don’t talk much, he said. “I talk when there’s something to say.” He watched her for a beat. You remind me of someone. She finally looked up. “That’s rarely a compliment.” A faint smile. This time it is. She held his gaze — steady, unreadable. Then turned to leave. But his voice stopped her. Will I see you again? “That’s not up to me.” And then she was gone.
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