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... ur ears, heavy and suffocating. Machines beep softly in the background, their rhythms steady and indifferent, monitoring the fragile life lying in the bed.
Angel lies motionless, his face pale as the pillow beneath his head, his breath shallow but steady. An IV drips slowly into his arm, clear liquid traveling through thin tubes into his too-still body, each drop a quiet mercy.
Deniz and I sit on the small couch against the wall, the vinyl cold beneath us despite the room’s warmt ...
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