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... ding in his chest. His fingers clutched the strap of his bag tightly, and his eyes darted around, scanning for any place to hide.
He didn’t dare look back. The small gasp and complaining from behind showed the man was still following him like a maniac.
Micah quickened his pace, trying hard to put space between himself and the man tailing him. But his damn white wig was more like a glaring sign than a disguise now. It stood out too much. His stupid idea to go with the white wig... ...
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