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Lyra was standing by the small mirror near the window, humming softly while practicing. Her posture was a little crooked, her expression serious. She lifted her chin, sang a line, then frowned.
"No... that sounded bad," she muttered to herself.
Elara didn’t say anything. She just stood there for a moment, watching her. Her eyes drifted to the schedule board on the wall. On it were training times, practice rooms, notices written in messy handwriting. And the date.
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