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”
She exhaled.
“You didn’t—”
“I listened to you. He is alive.”
She looked at him properly then.
His coat was wet at the shoulders. Dust marked the lapel. A thin red line cut along his cheekbone where something had grazed him.
She went to the bathroom and returned with a cotton ball and a brown bottle.
“Sit.”
He sat.
She tilted his face toward the lamp with continue reading …
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