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... ustment in his expression — not quite offense, not quite amusement, the particular response of a word landing wrongly.
"I don’t think we have that kind of relationship," he said.
Celestia went still.
The words were quiet. Not angry. Not wounded. Simply precise — the surgical removal of an assumption she’d made without examining it. She’d walked in here carrying ’nephew’ as a given, the familial shorthand of a category that implied mutual warmth and shared history and the ...
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