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After shuffling to the back of the sofa, where Nadia Aquamarine was most likely lounging as usual, Aiyano slowly places her trembling, black hand, smudged with pencil lead, on the back of the sofa. - Na...di...a... - sssssssssss... aaaaann... - she rasps in her ear like a ghost - her eyes are bloodshot, and she has dark circles under them.
- Oh! - The journalist jumped up and glared disapprovingly at the guest. - What if I had a heart attack? Would you take responsibility for that?