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... ra’s expression didn’t twist into rage, nor did she rush to retort. She simply stood there, the weight of Mystica’s words washing over her like the quiet after a thunderstorm. Her eyes—still wild, still glowing with that eerie hybrid gleam—narrowed as her lips curled into something different now. Not amusement or mockery.
But recognition.
Then she chuckled—low and husky.
"Well damn," Barbara murmured, gripping the handle of her axe a little tighter. "I knew there had to b ...
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