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... shirt, haphazardly unbuttoned, revealed the scars scattered across my body, each one a testament to past hardships. The heavy quietude lingered.
“...”
Irene looked down at me, her gaze fixed on the scars that left hardly an inch of my skin untouched. Each cut, burn, and stitch spoke volumes about the painful history I carried. I finally broke the silence.
“You saw it after all.”
A brief question. Irene nodded quietly.
“Yes... I noticed when I was changing ...
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