“No, no, Emily,” I said, my voice coming out as a strained, tight sound, a fragile barrier against the chaos that was threatening to consume my mind. I looked at Emily, my gaze firm, and with a slow, deliberate motion, I gently lowered my coffee cup onto the small, wooden table.The sound was a soft clink, a tiny, insignificant noise that felt deafening in the heavy, suffocating silence of the room. “Come on, Emily, you’re jumping to conclusions. I think Miriam is only trying to get some pictures for her Instagram reels or maybe a little bit of drama for her engagement.” I said the words, but even as I spoke, they tasted like ash in my mouth. I was trying to convince her, but more than that, I was trying to convince myself. I wanted to believe it was all just a wild, painful coincidence.Emily shook her head slowly, her eyes, usually so soft and kind, were now filled with a cold, unsettling certainty. Her hands, clasped around her own mug, were trembling, and I could see the fine trem
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