Samira stood at the edge of the Seine, her fingers brushing against the delicate fabric of her gown as she gazed at the glittering lights of Paris. It was the night she had dreamed of, the culmination of months of hard work, late nights, and restless mornings. The final round of the perfume competition was tomorrow, and she was here, standing in the city of lights, her future hanging in the balance. Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t shake the weight on her chest—the remnants of everything unresolved between her and Ray. She inhaled deeply, trying to draw in the calmness of the evening, but it felt forced, like she was pushing away the storm brewing inside her. Samira had spent so long chasing this dream, fighting for her place in a world that often felt like it had no room for her. And now that she was here, the silence was deafening. The soft hum of her phone pulled her back to the moment. Mike had texted her, asking how things were going. She smiled faintly at his concern. He had
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