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And she called him a stranger. Whose name still echoed in her mind like a war cry. Who had seen each bit of her naked soul and knew how scarred her soul is. Whose reflection still stood, smiling at her every time she stood in front of the mirror.
And she called him a stranger. Whose name still echoed in her mind like a war cry. Who had seen each bit of her naked soul and knew how scarred her soul is. Whose reflection still stood, smiling at her every time she stood in front of the mirror.
