PREVIEW

... icing the night into thin, silver lines.

Below, the city breathed—neon veins pulsing, car horns crying like restless animals trapped in steel.

Aron stood on the rooftop’s edge, Grey trench coat heavy with water. He didn’t shiver.

The cold had long since stopped mattering. It was only proof that he was still here—still trapped in his flesh, in his memory.

"Am I special?" he whispered to the storm. "Some chosen one? Loved by the Creator?"

A bitter laugh brok ...

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