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Chapter • 87

♱ •⋅ 1750 B.C. ⋅• ♱ •⋅ Calisto ⋅• ♱

Work. Work and... ah! More work.

There were so many damn papers that I found myself sinking behind that table, sinking into a sea of white leaves and idiotic rules.

Loren had slept there and I couldn’t even go out to take him to his room.

"You look in a terrible mood" A familiar voice made me raise my head and to my surprise - it was Anneliese.

"I have to deal with bureaucracy, you know how much I love this kind of work," I mocked sliding one of my hands across my face.

"Yes" she replied laughing "I know, I remember Quinn forcing you to sit at a table like this and say I wouldn’t see you until it was over."

I grunted as I remembered that damn memory.

"And they still had the courage to call her an angel" I joked feeling the melancholy that I could not dispel from my own voice.

"Wasn’t it you who called her that?" Anneliese asked with an equally melancholy smile "you haven’t changed at all... Callisto."

I sat up on my seat - the seat that belonged to
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