Everyone turned toward the voice. Sean was standing at the doorway, his gaze cold and fixed on Stanley.But if not for that familiar voice, Layla wouldn’t have recognized him at all.Sean looked gaunt and dangerously thin. His features had grown sharp and hollow, almost unrecognizable.Beneath the brim of his cap, his eyes were hidden in shadow. There was still a glint of sharpness in them, but it was buried under a kind of exhaustion that went all the way to the bone. He looked like someone who had wandered too long through a desert—parched, drained, barely hanging on.Layla knew that look all too well.She had worn that look once herself. She had stood on the edge of life and death, moving through the world like a ghost in the daylight. Her body had gone through the motions, but there had been no soul holding it together. She hadn’t been fully alive, nor had she been truly dead.Maybe sensing her gaze, Sean looked away and pulled his cap lower.Stanley let out a mocking laug
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