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Seventy Three

The silence has returned, but this time, it was way more awkward. Veil couldn't stop thinking about the implication of what Grandma said, how her eyes had regarded her, nudging across something that Veil thought she should have figured out already.

But she was clueless. It felt like a gaping hole in her mind that needed to be filled soon.

Anders, on the other hand, had put aside what plagued him earlier that day. The short ride with Veil had done something he couldn't place his hands on. Although he wanted to attribute it to Grandma and her worrying, Anders knew he started to feel better before they had even arrived at the restaurant.

Now, as he picked up a fork full of lasagne, he regarded Veil from underneath his lashes. She looked deep in thought, a crease on her forehead and a faraway look in her eyes. She drew circles with her fork on the empty side of the plate, but Anders was just grateful that she had at least gotten over the dread of eating with him.

Or maybe she didn't make
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