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... , moving between stalls stacked with fresh fruits and hot street food.

Nash leaned over and tapped the cloth bag of pears hanging from Zayela’s hip.

"That thing is going to tear open any second now," he said, grinning as he gave the bag another poke.

She slapped his hand aside, laughing as her black hair swung with the movement. "Shut up. At least I am trying to make real meals instead of eating street food every night like some stray dog."

Nash rolled his eyes an ...

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