Rosa POVThree days of something that was almost, improbably, normal.I went to class in the morning and took notes and answered questions and walked across campus like a regular student who had not spent the last six months living in a mafia penthouse. The leaves were changing and the air was cold and the world was moving the way it always moved, indifferent to everything I had been through.He worked in his office during the day and I did my coursework at the kitchen table and we ate lunch together when our schedules lined up. Nothing dramatic. Nothing urgent. Just sandwiches and coffee and the sound of his keyboard from the other room.We had dinner together every night. Sometimes he cooked, which was a disaster in ways that made me laugh. Sometimes I cooked, which was getting better. He still ate everything I made without complaint even when it wasn't good, and I was starting to believe that he actually liked it, or maybe he just liked that I had made it. I didn't ask which one it
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