Late August has a way of making even the calmest neighborhoods feel heavy. The air that evening was thick and unmoving, the kind that clings to your skin and makes every sound feel louder. Cicadas buzzed relentlessly, filling the silence between houses with their constant hum, as if the night itself couldn’t rest.
I was finishing up in the kitchen, wiping down the counters after dinner, when something cut through the noise.
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