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... blew over again from above the river.
Carrying moist air, the damp cold northwest wind seemed to form an invisible layer of thin ice on the skin, otherwise how could everything feel so cold?
The seahorse balloon in Conrad Sterling’s hand was never taken by Anna Thornton.
The pink balloon, blown by the wind, bounced between the two, yet Anna never deigned to give it even a glance.
What did Anna Thornton just say?
Almost... decided to entrust her whole life ...
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