As I moved through the Pack House, cleaning and tidying each room, I carefully avoided the part that belonged to Patricia. Memories of our previous agreement, her harsh words, and the pain she inflicted upon me were still fresh in my mind. I couldn't bear to revisit that space, even if it meant leaving it unkempt.But as I finished attending to the other rooms, I couldn't ignore the fact that Weston's room still awaited my attention. With a sigh, I pushed open the door, stepping into a realm that held both familiarity and trepidation.As I surveyed the room, my gaze swept across the neatly made bed, the scattered books on the desk, and the worn-out pair of shoes by the door. I couldn't help but wonder what secrets this room held, what hidden fragments of Weston's life resided within its walls.Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice the sound of the running water from the adjacent bathroom until it abruptly ceased. A jolt of surprise coursed through me as Weston emerged, his tall figu
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