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... sentence when Elle moved.

Not a step. Not a dash. Not even a flicker in her stance.

One moment she was standing. The next—gone.

What remained was her echo. That semi-transparent figure that had loomed behind her like a mirage, a blur with edges that didn't sit right, now shifted.

It glided forward in stuttering movements—frames skipping across the distance between her and Rose like a broken film reel.

Each flicker left behind faint imprints, fading like b ...

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