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The neon sign above The Wild Iris buzzed faintly, casting a lavender glow on the wet pavement. Inside, the Tuesday night crowd was a slow dance of laughter, clinking glasses, and the low thrum of a 90s alt-rock ballad.

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Maya wasn’t laughing. She was gripping the edge of the bar, her knuckles white, watching the door. The neon sign above The Wild Iris buzzed