09/05/2026 21:13

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Jean-Claude had imprisoned him, waiting for me to come home, waiting for me to live up to my responsibilities instead of running from them. He didn’tseem to have died happier or sadder for having passed on with it in his possession. Blake, I am as good at my job as you are at yours. She must hate it.

There is nothing political about what I do. Talking to yourself I can believe. I motioned at the windows. He was grateful, and wise enough toremain silent.