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slammed somewhere out front.
Evelyn held Noah’s hand so tightly he winced but didn’t complain. Snowmelt dripped from the gutters. The alley smelled like wet cardboard and coffee grounds.
A voice called from the street beyond, smooth and loud.
“Ms. Harper? Charles Bell’s office. We’d like a word.”
Evelyn didn’t move.
Another voice, this one harder: “You continue reading …
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