Lidia was nearly seventy years old.
She was thin, quiet, and always dressed in dark clothes.
She lived alone in a small house at the end of the village, beyond the old railway line, where the road disappeared into the forest.
Everyone knew her.
But nobody really knew her.
She rarely spoke to her neighbors.
She never attended village celebrations.
She didn’t visit the church anymore.
And whenever someone tried to ask about her family, she simply smiled and changed the subject.
Usually, Lidia bought small portions of beef.
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