I lowered my gaze to the new studio contract on the table. The address was in the south of the city, by the river, a place where fog gathered more often than not."I've paid my share too."…On opening day, Tristan came. He did not come inside. He only stood across the street, holding a paper bag."Do you want to go over?" Wyatt asked.I shook my head.Not long after, the front desk brought up a package. Inside was the repaired fog lamp, and the line "Come home when the fog clears" on the base had been re-engraved. But below it, a smaller line had been added.'Even if you don't return, may you still have a light.'I looked at it for a long time. Then, I placed the lamp at the very bottom of the storage cabinet.As the door closed, Tristan lowered his head across the street.He came a few more times after that. Each time, he stood across the street. Sometimes, he brought a cup of hot coffee; sometimes, he just stayed for a while.But he never knocked again, nor did he send
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