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Chapter 287 The Photograph
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Chapter 289 Confrontation at the Café
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... he air-conditioning. Twelve pairs of eyes were fixed on me, each one calculating, suspicious, or quietly resentful.
The long mahogany table gleamed under the overhead lights. I sat at the head, as I always did, my right hand resting casually on the arm of the chair, though the bandages beneath my sleeve still itched and ached with every pulse.
One of the older men cleared his throat. His name was Laurent too, though barely anyone outside the family remembered his exact connection ...
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