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... small fish darted beneath the surface. The same water that had almost taken Rose. His fingers were wet, stained with cold, but his mind was far from fishing. The image of Rose, soaked and unconscious by the rocks, replayed again and again. She had been pale, lips slightly blue, and yet... something about her expression even then hadn’t felt entirely human. It was the way her mouth curled, almost smiling, just before her eyes opened.
He hadn’t mentioned it to the others, not when they’d c ...
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