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... music, but out here, away from the party's warmth, the silence stretched between them like an unseen thread—thin, fragile, waiting to snap.

Billy walked a step behind Artur, watching the tense line of his shoulders, the way his hands stayed stuffed deep in his pockets. His stride was steady, purposeful, but there was something off about it—like he was walking just to move, not to go anywhere.

Billy let the quiet sit for a moment before breaking it.

"Where are we headed?" ...

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