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her eyes.
“You’re early,” she said. It sounded like an accusation.
“Where’s Ellie?” I asked, pushing past her into the foyer.
“She’s in the living room,” Dorothy said, stepping aside but blocking my path to the rest of the house. “She’s tired. She didn’t sleep well. She has nightmares, you know. You should really address that.”
I ignored her, moving quickly continue reading …
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