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... remained on her for a fleeting moment—just long enough.
Long enough to see her.
The tilt of her chin. The way her brow furrowed in restrained irritation. The twitch in her cheek, that slight flare of her nostrils as her lips pressed together—not angry. Not really. More... conflicted.
She was trying to look composed.
But her fingers gave her away.
Folded over her lap, they curled unconsciously into the loose fabric of Maira's spare dress, knuckles whitenin ...
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