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counter.
No water glass. No footsteps. No sign he’d been there at all.
Then—creak. The front door opened. My heart lurched.
Dave stepped inside, closing it softly. “God, you scared me,” I said, tightening my robe. “Where were you?”
He froze, just long enough for me to notice, then shrugged.
“Just taking the trash out.”
“At three in the morning?”
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