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... t back. It’s mine.”
That’s mine!
‘It’s my picture... Wait a moment.’
I furrowed my brow and looked at Jowick.
“You painted it?”
“I had an artist paint it.”
Right, of course.
This guy had peeked into my memories.
‘He asked if I had a blonde sister, so he must have seen the me from my first life.’
But how much did he see?
Did he maybe realize that it was me?
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