The train from Geneva back to Lausanne was a sleek, silent glide alongside the lake. Lara stared out at the water, its surface shifting from steel-grey to a deep, evening blue, but her mind was not on the view. It was a whirlwind of impressions, facts, and a strange, new quiet at its center.
He's quieter.
The edges wore down.
I'm not afraid of it anymore.






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