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Amir was standing near the far end of the rooftop, leaning casually against the railing.

He looked as composed as ever, dressed in a sharp black suit, his dark hair slicked back.

His eyes met mine the moment I stepped in, and a small, knowing smile spread across his lips.

"Mariana," he greeted, his voice low and smooth as I approached. "You came."

"I don't know why," I admitted, my voice shaky.

He chuckled softly.

"You came because you wanted to."

I didn't argue.

I wasn't sure how to.

He had this way of making me feel like everything he said was inevitable, like I had no choice but to follow along.

And maybe that was the truth.

Maybe I didn't want to fight it.

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