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he seemed insistent on making her an omelet, as if knowing how to cook eggs made him a feminist hero.
The pedestrians around them began to walk faster in anticipation of the drizzle becoming something worse while a man appeared from out of nowhere and set up on the corner, hawking ten-dollar umbrellas.
Because Amara wasn’t a hider. Amara was a shining fucking diamond, and keeping terrible secrets would only diminish her.
