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CHAPTER 45

OLIVIA.

I was having lunch.

It had been two weeks since the event in front of my apartment.

It was incredible how nothing was reported in the local press and any social network. In this harassing world, full of cameras and cell phones? Where people breathe the Internet and exhale information, false or not, exaggerated or not... C'mon!

There was no doubt in my mind: what happened to Carl and me was orchestrated by people with a lot of influence, but those around Carl Malaver must have had even more influence to ensure that no one said anything.

What'd happened to our belongings, all those that were left inside his car? My handbag with my documents and my cell phone, all that I considered lost because I didn't even dare to contact him to claim my stuff, to ask for them back, or anything like that.

It was Thursday.

I was stirring my glass of juice with my left arm, the free one, unbound by slings, ropes, or bandages. Mom was out shopping and it was a little hard to convince her to go out
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