Fragments of Truth
The people I talk to drop hints, but none offer anything solid. One person mentions seeing him at a coffee shop far from his usual route. Another says he’s been spotted at late-night meetings in unfamiliar places. These pieces sound more like rumors than facts, but together, they whisper of a life I never knew he was living.
I record every detail, hoping that the right pattern will emerge from the mess. Still, every answer seems to raise two more questions. His trail is faint, like a ghost moving through fog. The closer I think I’m getting, the more the truth seems to slip through my fingers. I’m chasing shadows.
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