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He didn’t fix the tires that night. He called a tow truck in the morning. And when Genti waved at him from across the street, Ardi looked through him like a ghost.

Ardi didn’t answer.

Ardi didn’t say a word. He just turned, walked down to the corner bar, and ordered a raki. The bartender, an old man named Hysni, wiped the counter and sighed. tu u qi kurvat me djem