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Isabella blinked. Her heel was still halfway in the air, posture poised for a dramatic exit—but that voice. That smug, unbothered, all-too-familiar voice in her head.
"Bubu," she muttered under her breath, jaw tightening. "Not now."
"Oh, but yes now," Bubu chimed, her tone coated in faux sweetness. "You really wanna be the genius who turns down a priceless survival-grade spirit necklace? What are you gonna do next, reject free skincare samples and start drinking unfiltered sw ...
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