~Anna~ Well-built and lean, he stood bythe doorway, his frame blocking the only exit. I recognized the voice, havingheard it at times on days I was allowed to take a stroll near the traininggrounds. Looking up, I saw my best friend, who I had barely seen for years. Istill considered him my best friend, though I didn’t know if it was the samewith him. He called me “Bella”, my second name, and he was the only one whocalled me by that name; everyone else preferred to call me “Anna”.His beach blonde hair was a mess, which meant he had justreturned from a run, but there was a weird scent coming from him. His thin lipswere set in a straight line, his blue orbs set on me, and though he wore aserious expression, it was the first t
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