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... His fingers found the back hem of her shirt and hooked there, steady and sure. With his other arm he held Cutie tight, one arm under the knees, the other around his upper back, the boy’s head turned in toward his chest so it wouldn’t brush the stone. No more whining about how heavy he was. Just a firm, careful hold and the soft drag of his breathing.
Kaya took the first step down.
The stone was cool under her boots, and each stair dipped in the middle, worn by paws and feet that ...
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