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... k suit. His appearance was disheveled; his hair unkempt, bruises marring his face. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot, revealing that he hadn’t slept in days.

The driver stood by the passenger door, holding it open for Lucius, but he shook his head, declining the ride. "You go ahead. I’ll make my own way home," he muttered before walking aimlessly down the pathway, barely aware of his surroundings.

He had no sense of time or direction. The weight of grief and exhaustion clouded ...

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