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... y like he was weighing something on the edge of a blade. His eyes were sharp, steady—like glass just before it cracks.

"And why," he said slowly, voice low and unimpressed, "should I help you?"

He tilted his head slightly.

"Last I checked, we weren’t exactly allies. And if your memory’s as short as your judgment, let me remind you—I still owe your sister a grave."

The room went still.

Rey swallowed hard, fists clenched at his sides. His voice, when it came ...

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