The city lights were starting to blur into long, neon smears against the windshield as I turned onto the highway. It was just after midnight, the kind of hour where the world feels like it belongs only to the people still awake.
As we pulled into your neighborhood, the tall oaks cast long, reaching shadows over the pavement. I slowed down, the engine's roar dropping to a low purr as we reached your driveway. I killed the engine, and for a moment, the silence was absolute. "We’re here," I whispered.
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