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... ... this is the only thing I know about him.

Lydia stared at the ceiling, her fingers curling into the blanket. Sleep wouldn’t come. Her mind was loud—too loud.

She turned to her side and sighed. "How am I supposed to spy on someone who barely speaks?" she muttered to herself.

Still, she remembered what she’d promised herself. If she ever noticed something about him, anything at all... she’d write it down.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her arms as the night breeze ti ...

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