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wild horses

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Hyejin glances at her phone, the screen silent, and slips it into her pocket. Don't look, she tells herself, but she can't help letting her fingers run over the plastic case, even when it's tucked safely out of sight in her pocket.

It's raining, the muffled raindrops thrumming against the fabric of the umbrella that doesn't keep the water from splashing over her toes. She doesn't have to glance at the time on her phone to know that he's late.

"You deserve better," Mihyun told her again this morning. Maybe she's right. Hyejin pulls her hand out of her pocket.