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... s, splashing through puddles and potholes without any cautions. The storm had blown past, yet stray drops still slid from overhanging branches, racing lazy lines down the windows.

“Mmph wh‑hav emm ride!” Noah shouted from the backseat, or tried to. The serpent Envy had its tail wrapped across his mouth, so the words came out mangled. Anyone fluent in muffled protest might translate: “What have you done? Where’s my Pride?”

From the trunk a second, less articulate curse ended with ...

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