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... eel tables and flickering overhead lights, the air thick with the mingled scents of grilled meat, fried food, and coffee.
Voices overlapped—sharp laughs, tired groans, the occasional clang of trays against metal.
Syn sat across from Aster, his lean frame slouched in a chair, his cast-bound ankles stretched awkwardly beneath the table.
Before him sat a tray of half-eaten food—chicken strips and sandwiches, a meal he’d ordered for himself but someone else’s hands kept steal ...
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