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Chapter 853 - Saturday Night At The Memory Lane I

A tangerine sun, bruised and low, bled long shadows across the perfectly sculpted lawns of the city. Five seventeen. Saturday. Late March. Petals, a blush of pink the color of a geisha's whispered secret, drifted like fallen confetti across the smooth paving stones. The air, still carrying the day's warmth, hummed with the low thrum of cicadas fading into the twilight.

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