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... remembered his grandpa’s bald, wrinkled head bent over his table saw, carefully cutting through planks to make a bookcase or a box to hold his tools. He’d treated Victor like his shop assistant, showing him how to sweep up sawdust, asking him to fetch tools, and, most meaningfully, letting him help with the nailing or sanding.

“Hello, warrior. Here for a new rocking chair?” Victor jerked out of his reverie and met eyes with the man sitting on a stool to his left. He was short for a Shad ...

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