Restoring Foundations
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The sound of the old wooden door creaking open was like a forgotten memory forcing its
way back. My eyes widened when I saw Ethan standing there in the middle of the
dusty hall. He was holding a rusted paint scraper and looking just as surprised as
I was. We had not spoken since our bitter breakup years ago. Now fate had thrown
us together in this dilapidated room. Our project lead told us we were the only volunteers
assigned to this wing. Ethan gave me a half hearted smile and said he guessed
we were stuck together. The tension in the air was crackling. As we worked side by side the proximity
reignited memories I had buried deep. Every creak of the floorboards reminded me of the dreams
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