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... g impatiently beside me, when my mother’s voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Markus, wait.” Cassandra’s tone was soft but firm, the kind she used when she wasn’t about to let something slide. I sighed, glancing at Nora, who pouted dramatically.
“Come on, Mom, we’re just going out to play,” I protested, standing up straight.
Cassandra approached me, a small, plain looking brooch in her hand. It gleamed faintly, with a metallic sheen and an indicator for how long it’ll work. < ...
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