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... self, carefully, like if he relaxed even a fraction he might fall apart. The way his hands gripped the railing just a little too tightly. The way his smile was too practiced, too perfect.

"Larus," she said quietly.

He didn’t look at her. Just kept staring out at the gardens.

"You don’t have to go back," Heena said.

His head turned sharply toward her, eyes wide.

"What?"

"You don’t have to go back," she repeated, voice steady. "Stay here. Marry me." ...

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