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“What does this one mean?” she whispered. “This one what?” I said softly. She opened her beautiful eyes and looked at me. “This quiet,” she said dreamily. “I know all of your quiets. I know when you’re alone with me and you’re quiet, it’s because your brain is still. And when you’re in public and you’re quiet, it’s because your brain is loud. But I don’t know this one. What’s this one?” I held her gaze. “This one’s you.”