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... es had been scrubbed until they shined like wet river stones, which probably meant half the children in town had been conscripted for forced labor. A cheerful sign read, WELCOME TO OUR HUMBLE TOWN, MOST HOLY INQUISITOR, in letters so large they looked afraid not to shout.

Elias squinted at it. "Did they have to use red ink?"

Behind him, Rhea snorted. "It's dried tomato paste. Smells like guilt."

He didn't ask how she knew. These days, Rhea was growing into her strange int ...

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