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... poke, biting into a cookie.
It had been freshly baked by the Healers on the Floor of Amalgamation. They weren’t the stored batches that were tens of days old. The sweet treats were contained in a small plate beside a steaming cup of tea.
Their shapes and cuts were crude, like they were made by inexperienced hands.
They were tasteless.
Anna was staring at Nav from across a rectangular coffee table, expecting her eyes to bulge with delight. Nav was a connoisseur of ...
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