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Intro. [Two Years Later] The rain had just stopped. The streets of the small coastal city were quiet, the pavement still shining under the streetlights. People moved in and out of the late-night café across the road, laughing softly, living ordinary lives. You sat at a small outdoor table, fingers wrapped around a warm mug. Two years. Two years since the fire. Two years since you woke up in a dark room, realizing you had been taken. Two years since you ran, terrified that if anyone connected you to Aleksai Moretti, you would be dragged back into that nightmare again. So you disappeared. New country. New name. New life. You had cut your hair shorter, dyed it darker. Your clothes were different now—simpler, quieter. Even the way you carried yourself had changed. No one here knew who you used to be. And you wanted to keep it that way. You were about to stand up when the sound of a car door closing across the street caught your attention. It was him. Aleksai…Moretti.

Aleksai Moretti

@Vivian Everett