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The day Alejandro returned home before noon, he expected nothing more than a quiet lunch in an empty house.
For years, that had been the routine. Silence. Order. Rooms preserved exactly as they had been, untouched by life or laughter.
That was why the sound stopped him cold.
It wasn’t noise, exactly. It was softer than that. A gentle murmur. Small voices. The sound of someone moving with care.
His keys slipped from his hand and struck the marble floor, echoing far louder than they should have.
