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... ched upward in concentric rings, already half-filled with examinees. I settled into my assigned spot, row M seat 42. The black leather creaked under my weight.

Whispers drifted from the row behind me, just loud enough to catch.

"Did you see the guy in the black turtleneck?"

"With the emerald earrings? God, those cheekbones."

"Think he's single?"

"Probably not with those looks. But a girl can dream..."

I turned, offering them a small wave and polite ...

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