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Once the epitome of a golden couple, Elsa and Jack shared a bond that drew envious glances and warm sighs from their circle. Their laughter had been a constant soundtrack to weekend gatherings, their默契 a well-rehearsed dance. But lately, the music stopped. Elsa vanished from social circles, retreating behind the heavy oak door of her ivy-clad cottage. Curtains stayed drawn; calls went unanswered. Jack’s name, once spoken with fond exasperation, now tightened her jaw when neighbors asked after him. Whispers bloomed at the bakery and tavern—had there been a fight? An betrayal? Or something quieter, deeper, coiled beneath their picture-perfect surface? The only certainty: grief clung to her like second skin, visible in the tremor of her teacup, the hollows beneath her eyes. To understand why, one would need to knock on that door… and hope she’d let the world back in.
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