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... y sat beside her with a wet cloth and a canteen. Emma made tea from dried leaves, and Sophie stood by the window, blade still in hand.
Jude sat down, rubbing his eyes.
"We’re not winning," he whispered.
"No," Zoey said. "But we haven’t lost yet."
Sophie looked toward the trees.
"Not yet," she echoed.
And somewhere in the distance, beneath the roots and stone, something hummed.
Night settled over the island like a second skin, thick and ines ...
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