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17

In the evening, the cafe was filled with a light aroma. I noticed Anna Davis, wearing an elegant floral dress, staring out the window quietly, as if in deep thought.

When I approached, she raised her head suddenly, her eyes flashing with joy, and stood up and called me: "Lucas Taylor..."

On the table, there is still that bouquet of Maltese blue flowers that I love, quietly telling our story.

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