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Ron's silence is a language Karnali has forgotten how to read. She must coax him to speak—not of why he was naked, but of the years of wanting that led him there—before the rain stops and the spell breaks.
Karnali's knees ache against the damp floorboards, the wet anchal pooling cold around her thighs. She looks up at Ron's face—his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on her mouth—and realizes he hasn't blinked s
Ron's throat works once, twice, before the sound comes—hoarse, scraped raw, a word she has never heard him speak in that tone. 'You.' The rain pounds the window as he says it again, his hand lifting,