"Hmmm..." Dr. Clinton exhaled, a soft sound that seemed to carry years of wisdom. He gently placed his hand on Aria's shoulder; his touch was firm yet paternal, as he guided her toward the plush leather armchairs in his private office. As Aria sat down in silence, he took his place behind his mahogany desk."I'm sorry, Aria, that they made you feel that way, but..." He looked at Aria calmly, his eyes still searching for hers before continuing, "Even with all that, my dear Aria, you should know that you look beautiful with this mark. It's just that..."Aria immediately interrupted him, her voice breaking: "Seriously, doctor? You want to go there? Why now?"Her nose and cheeks were already turning a bright, painful red. She fought to maintain her composure, holding back the sharp tears that threatened to spill. In almost every visit she'd made to this hospital, Dr. Clinton had never once commented positively on how the scar on her face looked. He'd always been so clinical, so focused on
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