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... though the night sky had begun to darken with an odd stillness. There was no wind. No sound of crickets. The air felt as if it was holding its breath. At one table in the corner, Sofia was enjoying her dinner with Rina. In front of them, a bowl of hot mushroom and meat soup released gentle steam, freshly baked flatbread sat neatly on a plate, and a glass of lightly fermented fruit juice shimmered under the hanging crystal lamp.

Sofia took a piece of bread, dipped it slowly into the soup ...

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