I didn’t expect anyone from Briar Glen to find me here. Not in this city of glass towers and polished heels, where the air smelled of ambition and subtle perfume. Yet, there she was. Clara. My former coworker, once my closest friend in the small town. Same sharp smile, same piercing eyes, but now layered with judgment instead of camaraderie. She stood in the lobby of the Montierre, arms crossed, scanning the room until her gaze landed on me. Recognition flashed—then calculation. I froze for a moment, and Adrian, who was walking beside me, noticed. Not alarmed. Just alert, as if he could feel the shift in the air before I did. “Go say hello,” he murmured softly. “I’m not sure I want to,” I whispered. “You’re not here to make friends,” he said quietly. “You’re here to exist.” That simple phrase gave me the courage to approach. Clara’s smile didn’t widen. “Elena,” she said, her voice deliberately measured. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” “I’m here,” I replied
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