PREVIEW

... and my tray of pastries in hand. I stepped into the clothing store, looking at the basic garments hanging on the walls. A kind-looking woman was behind the counter, and she gestured at the tray I was carrying.

“Sorry, dear, but there’s no food allowed in the store.”

“No worries!” I stepped up and displayed the ten remaining pastries. “I got a fresh tray of passiona-stuffed pastries from Lena’s Café just now, and while I admit you can eat them, these aren’t food—they’re currency. ...

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