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XVII

A few months later, Ragini was sitting at Swara's house with her arms crossed over her chest and her bottom lip jutted out. She had been pouting since the moment she walked, or rather was dragged, into Swara's house.

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Chanchal Yadav

My words paint a world where memories resurface, both beautiful and haunting. It's up to you to decide if you want to reminisce or rewrite.