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... > The queue to the auditorium stretched well past its entrance. I reasoned that they were checking names at the door. I traced the line, looking for Deneel’s distinctive burn-orange side-pony. She would have been impossible to miss if she were here.
I couldn’t find Ainset’s brass either. Cora squeezed my hand, "It’ll be alright, Ser, please calm down."
We both smelled strongly of vanilla. Cora had grabbed a bottle of extract from the kitchen and dabbed our clothes with it to mask ...
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