
By the time my coffee is gone, the palace begins to stir. Doors open, water runs, voices drift like old incantations. Everything—the world, the routine—pretends nothing changed in the night.
I am the only witness to what cracked open.
By the time my coffee is gone, the palace begins to stir. Doors open, water runs, voices drift like old incantations. Everything—the world, the routine—pretends nothing changed in the night.
I am the only witness to what cracked open.
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