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She said that a man who knows how to build with his hands will never be completely lost. Naya watched his calloused, rough hands, hands that worked tirelessly not for himself, but to help her. No wealthy suitor had ever done anything like that for her. But the townspeople did not look favorably upon this friendship. Whispers grew like weeds.
“Not for vagrants, I just need water,” Naya replied calmly, though her heart was pounding. “Then go fetch it from the river like the animals,” another woman spat. Naya felt humiliation burn in her cheeks, but before she could respond, Cole’s voice boomed from her. “Get out of the way.”
The women turned around in surprise. “Cole, this is none of your business,” Rosa said haughtily. “Any injustice is my business,” Cole replied, standing next to Naya. “This well belongs to the village, and she’s in the village. She has as much right to it as any of you. Are you defending her?” Rosa asked incredulously. “You’re a fool, Cole.”
Naya stood motionless, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered. “Yes, I had to,” Cole replied gently. “I can’t stay silent when I see cruelty.” That night, sitting beside the shelter they had built together, Naya decided to test Cole’s heart in a different way.
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