The first note

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There was something about the way Malik noticed her for the first time. She was standing at the edge of the park, her locs cascading down her back like rivers of wisdom. She had tattoos on her arms that told stories he couldn't yet understand. But it wasn't the ink or the locs that drew him in—it was the quiet confidence she exuded, like she was in tune with something much deeper than the world around her.

Her name was Amara, and she had a way of making the ordinary feel extraordinary. Malik couldn't remember exactly how they started talking that day, but once they did, it felt like the universe had been holding its breath, waiting for this moment. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, as if they had known each other in a past life, reconnecting in the chaos of this one.

Amara wasn't overly affectionate, but there was warmth in her presence, a kindness that made Malik feel seen, really seen, for the first time in a long time. She introduced him to sushi, something he'd never tried before, and he found himself loving it—not just because of the taste, but because of how she watched him with those curious eyes, as if his reactions were the most interesting thing in the world.

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