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... low in the sky.
Victoria Sinclair sat quietly by the edge of the bed, feeling heavy-hearted as she gazed at the already asleep Eugene Vaughn, his hand tightly holding hers.
She pulled out her phone from her pocket, glanced at it—it showed one o’clock in the morning.
Raising her eyes again to look at the man’s tired sleeping face, her mood was as heavy as if dark clouds were pressing down, the air around her felt stagnant.
She slowly withdrew her hand, stood up, cl ...
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