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... t shows them who they already were."
***
But there was a third option.
I could see Rhys reaching for it in the way his shoulders tensed. The way his weight shifted toward escape. He could just walk away. Leave the pouch on the ground. Let social pressure sort itself out over time.
Annoying. But predictable.
Time for the ace.
"Of course," I said, letting my voice carry a note of wounded confusion. The hurt of someone whose generous offer had been in ...
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