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“The silence after a good storm,” she said. “When the power goes out and everything just... stops. No hum. No notifications. Just the drip-drip of water and the knowledge that you survived.”

A pause. A sniffle.

“Ana—my wife—she used to crinkle her nose when she laughed. It made a tiny whistling sound. Like a kettle about to boil. That was my favorite sound. What’s yours?”

“Then let’s not waste it on small talk,” Kai said. “What’s your favorite sound?”

He pressed it.

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