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Kelly Collins walked the narrow street at dusk, the city lights pooling in puddles. She'd left the gallery early, the BlackDraw exhibition still buzzing in her head: charcoal lines that felt like conversations she hadn't had. A stranger lingered near the doorway, watching the crowd thin until Kelly was alone. He smiled too easily, asking if she preferred the darker pieces. His voice was polite but probing, his questions lingering on details Kelly hadn’t meant to share.