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... voice — that warm, down-from-above quality of a hand appearing in her field of vision, palm up, fingers slightly open, offered.
She opened her eyes.
Raven was crouching beside her.
The elegant, unhurried quality of him — crouched at her level, his forearms on his knees, that patient quality of a man who was not going to rush this.
She looked at his hand.
She looked at his face. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖
"You destroyed my life," she said.
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