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... the cracks in the armored door, was tinged with an azure hue.
Then, through a broken part of the house that barely overlooked the back alley outside, Sheila saw a dog. The white mongrel dog, not very large in stature, looked up at the second floor and wagged its tail without barking.
“It’s him. That’s our Mick.”
“Okay, let’s drop the floor plan down.”
Sheila shoved a piece of sheet through the gap in the window. It was possible because the windows of a commoner’s ...
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