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... htning.
Mira’s head snapped toward the sofa. Toby had stirred, his eyes half-open and glazed with fever. His lips trembled as he tried to wet them, catching no moisture.
"Toby!" She dropped her bundle, the cloth-wrapped wooden piece thudding softly against the floorboards, forgotten. She rushed to his side, kneeling beside the sofa so fast her knees protested the impact.
Her hands hovered over him, afraid to touch and somehow make it worse. "I’m here, baby. I’m right here ...
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