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... didn’t even try to hide it. One second he was squared up, ready to put Andrew in the ground or pull a gun from nowhere, and the next second he went stiff. Not alert. Not aggressive. Tense in a way that felt... controlled. Like someone had just walked into the room who outranked him.
Philip.
Calestino’s eyes had flicked to him, sharp and fast, then back to me. His jaw tightened. His hand loosened from my arm, but only slightly, like he didn’t want to let go yet but was forced to. ...
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