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... artled her again.
Just like the previous two times, she slowly turned her head, only to see the deserted tree-lined path at night.
Every time Koa Jackson waited for her to turn away before he left, yet he never realized that the one who always left last was her.
That’s probably how love is.
The more lingering attachment one has, the later they leave.
It was too quiet.
The road under the streetlights in front of her was eerily quiet.
Mia too ...
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