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    The sunset was beautiful, but Ember hardly noticed.

    Even though she was facing the spectacle, Ember was far more intent on blending into the crowd, on making sure that no one so much as glanced at her.

That was what she had made her living on, after all.

    As she made her way through the busy streets, a man stumbled into her. At the impact, Ember turned her face away, its features scrunching up in nervousness and worry. “I’m sorry,” the man said, and he tripped over his words as he had his feet.

    Ember only shook her head, not daring to speak, lest her voice be recognized. A moment later, and the man wouldn’t remember her at all, Ember was sure of it. As if to emphasize her point, she pushed forward once more, hoping with all that she had that the man wouldn’t follow her, that he wouldn’t draw attention to her.

Once the distance between them had increased to several feet, she let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

    Again, she was right back where she wanted to be.

    Again, she was a ghost.