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That night, I stood at my kitchen window and watched the light in Eli’s bedroom burn long past three in the morning.
“No, ma’am. I haven’t.”
“Then how—”
“I just need you to say yes.”
I almost said no. I had every reason. But there was something in his eyes that did not belong to a seventeen-year-old. Something steadier than I had felt in a year.
“Yes,” I whispered.
That night, I stood at my kitchen window and watched the light in Eli’s bedroom burn long past three in the morning, and I wondered what on earth I had just agreed to.
His mother called me on day three.
The light in Eli’s bedroom window became my new clock.
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