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You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.
—Psalms 32:7
“Ah, so you’re awake now?”
The voice to her left made her start. Abby felt a surge of fear, but in light of the yellow curtains, white walls and the very pregnant woman staring down at her, she managed to swallow that fear and ask, “What happened? Where am I?”
“You’re in my home. I’m Fiona Whitley. My mom and my brother, Cal, rescued you when you passed out at the bus station.”
Abby sat up and regretted the quick action when the room spun. “When was that?”
“Three days ago. Today’s Friday. Your fever finally broke yesterday.”
Abby remembered her self-diagnosis in the bus station. And with that memory came the vision of the man who’d been following her. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
“What’s wrong?”
Did she dare burden her? Abby looked around the cozy apartment and realized she couldn’t just blurt out she thought someone was following her. A person who had evil intentions toward her….
Holiday Hideout
Lynette Eason
MILLS & BOON
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To my family, I love you all.
ONE
Dr. Abigail O’Sullivan stepped off the bus and felt the hair on the back of her neck spike. It was all she could do to hold back the groan climbing up her throat as she looked around, trying to pin down the source of her uneasiness.
It’s nothing, she told herself, you were careful. There’s no way he could have followed you. You’re just sick.
The fever had started yesterday. Monday, right? She thought so. The aches and pains had followed shortly thereafter. She needed something to drink. Some water. But she’d been on a bus for the past three hours fading in and out. During a lucid moment, she wondered exactly how high her fever was.
But was it truly just illness causing her to feel so out of sorts?
Even now, exhausted and sick, she felt watched. How? her sluggish mind cried. She’d taken buses, crisscrossed states, paid cash for everything. Her dry eyes burned as they canvassed the area around her. How could he still be behind her?
He’s not, he couldn’t be.
His parting words made her shudder. “I’m going to make sure you suffer for the rest of your life.”
Cutting words. Hurtful, hateful words.
But that’s all she’d thought they were.
Just words.
Until someone tried to run her off the road and the police blamed her and chalked it up to reckless driving.
And then there was the series of incidents that frightened her terribly. Coming home to find her house had been searched was terrifying. Then her car had been broken into and her office searched.
Subtly. Very carefully. But she’d known it. And she’d reported it to the police.
Who’d done absolutely nothing.
She snorted. The police. A lot of help they were.
So was it him? Or someone else? Possibly someone he’d hired? A chill shook her, and she pulled the edges of her coat tighter. Her tongue snaked out to lick dry lips. Snagging her purse, she rummaged through it until she found a crumpled bill and some change. Surely there’d be a drink machine somewhere in this bus station.
Her mind hopped back to the person after her.
If he’d hired someone, then she’d have to keep running no matter how awful she felt. Swallowing hard, she grimaced at the pain the action brought. She felt sure gulping razors wouldn’t hurt as much. Vaguely, she wondered if she had strep in addition to the flu.
Probably. She thought about the young boy on the last bus. He’d been coughing, flushed and complaining his throat hurt. Abby had wondered if he had the flu or strep.
Now she knew.
“Are you all right, dear?”
Abby turned to look at the woman who’d posed the question in a light Irish accent and had to fight off a wave of dizziness. When her head stopped spinning, she took note of stylish salt-and-pepper hair before landing on the green eyes glistening with concern. Abby guessed the lady was in her mid-fifties.
Feeling a cough coming on, Abby turned her face into her elbow until the spasm passed. Using the tissue she’d found in the bottom of her purse, she dabbed the cough-induced tears from under her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just sick.
The flu, I think, and maybe strep, too, so you might want to keep your distance.”
But the gentle lady smiled. “I’ve had my shot. And I’ve never had strep in my life. Guess I’ll take my chances. I’m waiting on my son to pick me up. Been visiting my sister over in Bryson City.”
Dizziness swept over Abby again and she closed her eyes to ward it off. She didn’t bother telling the woman she’d had her flu shot, too. Fat lot of good it had done her.
When she opened her eyes, her new friend placed a hand on her arm and led her to a nearby bench. “But you don’t care about all that. Here, why don’t you sit here while I get you a bottle of water?”
Before Abby could protest, another wave of dizziness attacked her and she sank onto the bench with a grateful groan.
A shiver racked her and she huddled deeper into her thick down winter coat. The middle of December in North Carolina was cold. Of course the fever didn’t help. Squinting, she fought sleep even though she wanted nothing more than to curl up and sink into oblivion.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t do that. She had to stay awake, keep her eyes peeled. Stay alert. He would be waiting for her to show weakness, catch her off guard.
But she’d been so careful.
She reached down and patted the small bulge in the lower part of her jeans. The reassuring feel of the wad of cash soothed some of her anxiety.
She looked around again and another tremor shook her as the faces blended, merged, then separated. Abby blinked fast to clear her vision.
Yes, she’d been careful.
At least she thought she had. But what if she hadn’t been? What if her paranoia wasn’t fever-induced? After all, what did she know about running from someone who caught criminals for a living? Not that she was a criminal, but the process was the same wasn’t it?
Visions of her brother-in-law’s stony glare as Abby clutched her dead sister’s hand stumbled to the forefront of her brain.
Her sister and baby girl … dead because of Abby …
Grief racked her. “My fault.”
“Here, darling. Here’s your water.”
Abby felt liquid slip between her lips to cool her fiery throat. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“What’s your name?”
“Abby.”
“Well, Abby, I’m Justine McIvers and I think we need to get you to a doctor. Are you meeting someone here?”
“No, I’m alone. But I’ll be all right.” The water did seemed to revive her a bit. She took another swallow and nearly cried at the pain the action caused.
Then her eyes fell on a man behind the woman and she gasped, shoved aside the water and lurched to her feet. She stumbled, got her balance, then fell headlong into a hard chest.
Strong hands grasped her upper arms. “Whoa, there, little lady. What’s going on?” The deep bass voice rumbled in her ear.
“She’s very sick, Cal,” the woman behind her said. “I think she needs an ambulance.”
“No, please,” Abby gasped. “No, no ambulance, no hospitals.”
The darkness started closing in and she fought it. She couldn’t pass out! Not now. He was here! He’d found her. She looked again and didn’t see him.
Or was he just a hallucination?
Panicked, she looked up into the blue eyes of the man who kept her from landing face-first on the floor at his feet. “Don’t let him get me.”
And then she lost the battle as blackness coated her.
Deputy Sheriff Callum McIvers held the sick woman against him, his eyes scanning the gawking crowd. Who was she afraid of?
Don’t let him get me. Her words echoed in his ears.
Who? In a town the size of Rose Mountain, Cal prided himself on knowing just about every resident by name.
Except during the holiday season. Christmas was right around the corner, and every day the bus brought more strangers to town than he could count.
Even through both of their heavy winter coats, he could feel the heat from the fever emanating from the woman who’d just passed out.
Trained as a first responder, he acted quickly. Doing a preliminary check, he was relieved to find a strong pulse. However, her breathing seemed labored. Probably from the congestion in her chest.
Cal looked up at his mother, whose concern was etched on her normally smooth forehead. He said, “We need to get her to a doctor. She’s burning up.”
“She said it was the flu and possibly strep.”
Cal frowned. “Call Dylan and have him meet me at the house. She’s obviously afraid of someone, so I guess I won’t take her to the hospital if she doesn’t need to go. If she’s running from someone, her illness could be a combination of exhaustion and whatever bug she’s picked up.”
“You’re taking her home? To your house?” Surprise lit his mother’s eyes as Cal picked the woman up in his arms and ignored the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama play out.
“Well, maybe not to my house. Yours isn’t a very good idea with you promising to watch Tiffany this week. We sure don’t want her to come down with whatever this woman’s got.” Tiffany was the five-year-old granddaughter of his foreman, Zane Dodson. Zane’s daughter, a single mother and a doctor, had volunteered to go to Haiti for a week on a mission trip. Zane was excited about having the little girl nearby, but the thought of caring for her by himself had terrified him. Cal’s mother had stepped in and volunteered to help babysit.
Cal said, “What about Fiona’s? I don’t want to expose Fiona to her, though. What do you think?”
“If we take her to Fiona’s, she can have the apartment in the basement. I can come over and check on her, bring her food or whatever until she’s past the contagious stage.”
Cal nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’ve got the car outside. Do you have Dylan’s number?”
“Sure. And I’ve got her purse, too. Let’s go.”
Cal carried her out, doing his best to shield her from the cold wind blowing off the mountain.
As he settled the unconscious woman into the backseat, his mother climbed in the front. “Dylan said to bring her by his office, it’s quicker. He’s already shut down for the day and happened to be there working on some files. He can see her right away.”
“Excellent.”
Once more, Cal checked her pulse. Still strong.
“I don’t know if she had a bag other than her purse or not.”
Cal grunted as he worked the seat belt around her. “I’ll call Joe and tell him to hold it if a strange bag shows up with no one to claim it.”
Joe was the bus transit director and one of Cal’s good friends.
Cal climbed into the front seat and started the engine. Five minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of Dylan Seabrook’s medical practice. A quick scan of the road behind him showed no cars, no one following. But the fear on the woman’s face just before she passed out stayed with him.
Gathering the sick woman in his arms, he headed for the door. Dylan swung it open. “I was watching for you. Bring her on down here.”
Cal followed Dylan down the hall to an empty room. As gently as possible, he settled her on the examination table and looked at Dylan. “We’ll be right outside.”
Dylan took over as Cal took his mother’s hand and pulled her from the room.
His mother spoke. “What makes you think she’s afraid of someone?”
“She said, ‘Don’t let him get me,’ just before she passed out.”
She blanched. “Oh, my.”
Cal nodded. “Did you see anyone suspicious hanging around her?”
“No, darling, I was just looking for you and noticed how flushed she was. She also looked a little lost, so I asked her if she needed some help.”
Cal smiled. “Leave it to God to lead you to the one who needs help.” He glanced at the door wondering what was taking so long. How sick was she? He started to get concerned. Had he misjudged the seriousness of her illness?
Outside the window at the end of the hall, darkness had fallen and the full moon cast shadows.
His gaze sharpened. Wait. Was that someone trying to look in? “I’ll be right back.”
“What is it?” She frowned up at him.
“Just want to check something out, all right?”
“Cal, you’ve got that look on your face.”
But he was already moving toward the front door. He could feel her worried gaze drilling his back as he turned the corner.
Once outside, he stopped and listened. Had he just imagined the shadow outside the window?
Making his way as silently as possible around to the back of the building, he found the window where he thought he’d seen the image of someone trying to peer inside the building.
Nothing stirred but the normal end-of-day noises and his breath in the air.
A footfall to his left.
Cal whirled. The shadow ran.
“Hey! Freeze! Police!”
Ignoring him, the person never stopped. Cal took off after him, boots slapping against the asphalt as he rounded the side of the building.
Squinting, Cal tried to get a look at the fleeing man, but in the darkness, even with the light of the moon, wasn’t able to make out much more detail than the man’s baseball cap. He thought the guy had on a dark colored heavy coat and boots, but wasn’t a hundred-percent sure.
The figure slipped between The Candy Caper and John’s General Store. Cal heard the roar of an engine, but by the time he got around the corner, man and vehicle were gone, taillights fading in the distance. In the dark behind the buildings, he couldn’t even get a make on the car or a license plate.
Cal slapped his thigh in frustration as he stopped to catch his breath even as his brain started processing the events.
A sick woman—whose name he still didn’t know—in a bus station. A frightened plea for help. A stranger lurking outside the medical building where the woman was receiving care.
Who was he? An ex-husband or a boyfriend?
Had Cal found himself in the middle of a domestic violence situation?
His jaw tightened as he stared in the direction of the long-gone taillights as another woman’s pleas echoed in his ears. Another woman he’d failed.
If this new stranger he and his mother had taken under their wing needed help, Cal would do everything in his power to make sure she received protection and care for as long as she needed it. And from whomever she was scared of.
Dylan gave a disgusted grunt and turned to walk the three blocks back to the clinic.
When he entered the door, his mother greeted him with a worried look. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“What made you think you needed to go check on things outside?”
Not wanting her to worry, Cal shook his head. “Just a feeling. But everything’s all right.” He changed the subject. “How’s our patient? Have you heard anything?”
“Not yet. I’m worried she might need—”
Dylan opened the door and Cal pounced. “How is she?”
“She’s sick.” The doctor’s brow furrowed. “I suspect strep and the flu.” He held up two capped tubes. “I took some cultures, so we’ll know something in a few minutes after I get them processed.”
Dylan walked into the lab and began the process that would read the cultures. Cal followed on his heels. “Did she wake up? Why did she faint?”
As Dylan washed his hands, he looked over his shoulder at Cal. “Yes, she woke up. I talked to her a bit, but she’s not making much sense. Talking about someone being after her?” Dylan lifted a brow. “Do you have any idea what that’s related to?”
“I might. In the bus station she seemed scared, then before she passed out she said, ‘Don’t let him get me.’”
Dylan frowned. “That doesn’t sound so good.”
“Exactly.” He hardened his jaw.
His friend gave him a knowing look. He knew exactly what Cal meant. “Well, I gave her something for the fever, so it’s coming down. She’s worn out and pretty dehydrated. As for your second question as to why she fainted, I think that was probably due to a combination of things.”
“So, does she need to be in a hospital?”
“Nah.” Dylan dried his hands on the towel. “Like I said, she’s a little dehydrated, but if someone will make sure she gets proper rest and care, she’ll be good as new in a few days. I can even come out there in a couple of days to check her over.”
Cal thought about the man he’d just chased. If he was after the sick woman, he was going to have to go through Cal to get to her.
And Cal wasn’t an easy man to go through.
TWO
Abby blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the window to her left. Awareness came to her slowly, almost as though she were slogging through a fog. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the opposite wall where a collection of weapons hung on display.
Knives, guns, rifles, a slingshot?
And a Christmas tree on a small table in the corner of the room. Multicolored lights twinkled in a repeating pattern.
Where in the world was she?
Turning her head, she squinted to take in the rest of her surroundings.
“Ah, so you’re awake now?”
The voice with the soft Irish accent made her start. The smell of chicken broth made her stomach rumble. Abby felt a surge of fear, but in light of the yellow curtains, cream-colored walls and the very pregnant woman staring down at her, she managed to swallow that fear and ask, “What happened? Where am I?”
Bits and pieces of the past few days flitted through her mind. A woman helping her to the bathroom. A cool cloth placed on her forehead. Sipping some broth. A shot? Yes, she definitely remembered the shot.
She looked at the woman in front of her and decided she looked familiar, but she wasn’t the one she’d seen in her dreams.
Or was it all real?
“I’m Fiona Whitley. You’re in my home in our small basement apartment. My mom and my brother, Cal, rescued you when you passed out at the bus station.”
“Passed out!” Abby sat up and regretted the quick action when the room spun. Closing her eyes, she waited. When she opened them, things had settled, but she still felt as weak as a newborn. “When was that?”
“On Tuesday. Today’s Friday. Your fever finally broke yesterday. You’ve had a nasty case of the flu and strep throat. Dr. Seabrook came by and gave you some fluids by IV. After that, you seemed to start improving hourly.”
Abby remembered her self-diagnosis in the bus station. And with that memory came the vision of the man who’d been following her. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
The pretty woman with the red curls and green eyes frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Did she dare burden her? Abby looked around the cozy apartment and realized she couldn’t just blurt out she thought someone was following her.
A person who had evil intentions toward her. “Has … um … anyone been looking for me? Asking about me?”
“Not that I know of.” Fiona gave her a wry smile. “We live on a large ranch, not exactly a hub of excitement and information. Fortunately, we have all of the modern conveniences. Do you have someone you’d like me to call?”
“No!” At Fiona’s start, Abby softened her tone. “No. No one.”
“But surely someone’s missed you by now.” Fiona sat on the bed beside Abby. “We found your phone in your purse, but the battery’s missing.”
“I took it out.” She remembered thinking that somehow her whereabouts could be traced through the phone’s location, so she’d pulled the battery out and sewn it and her driver’s license—and the flash drive—into the leg of a pair of her jeans. An extreme measure maybe, but she just wanted to disappear. She didn’t want to be Abby O’Sullivan for as long as it took to find a slice of peace and put her life back together.
A guilty look flashed across Fiona’s face. “We went through your things trying to find out who you are.”
“My things?” At first she was alarmed, then calmed. She hadn’t had very much. “That’s all right.” They wouldn’t have found her identification. A fact that was probably weighing on the pretty woman’s mind. Abby said, “I’m Abby. Abby … um … Harris.” She picked at the comforter as she gathered her strength. “Thanks so much for taking care of me.” Her eyes landed on the woman’s belly. “I sure hope you don’t get sick.”
“Mom didn’t want me near you, either,” Fiona admitted with a small laugh. “She used to be a nurse and insisted on doing most of the caring for you. And Dylan came by a couple of times.” Fiona smiled. “So no worries, I’m fine and so is the little one.”
Abby swung her legs to the side of the bed and realized she had on a pair of strange pajamas. “Where did these come from?”
Fiona gave another light giggle. “They’re mine. I outgrew them quite a while ago—” she patted her distended belly with a loving hand “—but they looked like they might fit you.” She bit her lip. “I hope you don’t mind, but we couldn’t leave you in your clothes once your fever broke now, could we? Mom helped me get you into those.”
“No, I guess not.” She’d had pajamas in her bag.
As though reading her thoughts, Fiona offered, “We didn’t get your bag from the bus station until yesterday afternoon.”
That explained it. Abby pulled in a deep breath. “I really appreciate you all taking care of me. It was a very kind thing to do.”
Fiona smiled and something flashed in her eyes. Something Abby wanted to discern but couldn’t quite put her finger on. She ignored it and said, “I probably should get going.”
She tried to stand and another wave of dizziness almost knocked her down.
Fiona took her by the arm and helped her lie back down on the bed. “You aren’t going anywhere until you get better. You’re welcome to stay here until you feel well enough to leave.”
Abby wanted to argue but couldn’t summon the energy. She knew Fiona was right. But the problem was, she had someone after her.
The other problem was she didn’t have the strength to do anything about it. She lay on the bed and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to take everything in that had happened in the past several months.
Would Reese really go this far? Was he still after her? Or had the fever caused her to hallucinate in the bus station?
Even though he fully believed—as did she—that the deaths of his wife and her baby were her fault, would he really go to the extreme of following her this far?
She honestly didn’t know, but it sure looked like it.
But why would he search her apartment? Why would he try to get in her window in the middle of the night?
To keep her off balance? To make her so afraid of her own shadow that when he finally pounced, she’d be an easy target?
Possibly.
“What do you think?”
Fiona’s question made Abby blink. She realized she hadn’t heard a word the woman said. “I’m sorry. I was thinking … What’d you say?”
“I said I think it might be a good idea for you to stay here awhile. Unless you have someone—”
“No. Like I said, there’s no one.” No one at all. Her family had disowned her the minute her sister had taken her last breath.
Because it was her fault her sister had died. At least that’s how she felt. And so did her family.
Shuddering, she looked at Fiona, grief piercing her as she studied the large bulge under the woman’s blue maternity shirt. “When is your baby due?”
An excited smile curved Fiona’s lips. “Right after the first of the year. My due date’s January 2.”
“That’s wonderful for you. Just about three more weeks, eh?”
“Yes.” The word was more of a groan. “And it can’t come soon enough.”
As an obstetrician, Abby figured if she had a dollar for each time she’d heard those words from an expectant mother, she’d be a millionaire.
“I don’t—”
A knock on the door jarred her to a stop. Heart in her throat, she grabbed the blanket and pulled it to her chin. Like it could protect her from whoever was on the other side of that door.
Compassionate green eyes watched her, saw her fear. “It’s all right,” Fiona said. “It’s probably my mother or my brother, Cal. My husband sold two of our horses and went to deliver them to a family in Virginia. He’ll be home Monday afternoon.”
Feeling like an idiot, Abby relaxed her death grip on the blanket and nodded. Of course it couldn’t be Reese. If it was, he certainly wouldn’t announce his presence with a knock.
Fiona opened the door and a tall man with reddish-blond hair and blue eyes deep enough to swim in stepped over the threshold.
The man from the bus station.
The man whose strong arms had easily caught her when she’d dropped like a felled deer.
Abby couldn’t help the flush on her cheeks because, while he didn’t know this, she was embarrassed that she could remember what his arms felt like around her.
And flustered because she wished she could fall into the comfort of them once more.
How long had it been since she’d had someone hold her and offer—
She blinked the thought away. Right now she had to concentrate on getting well and leaving before she brought trouble to this sweet family.
Only then did his uniform register.
The gray shirt, black pants, black tie. And the gold badge placed just over his heart.
He was a cop.
Her heart thudded. She gulped and looked away.
“Hi, there, how are you feeling?”
His deep voice sent shivers all over her. Shivers that had nothing to do with a fever she no longer had. “Hi. Better, thanks.”
Fiona said, “This is Abby Harris. Abby, this is my brother, Callum McIvers.”
Cal smiled, revealing even white teeth. And twin dimples on his clean-shaven face. “But you can call me Cal. All my friends do. Nice to meet you, Ms. Abby Harris. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
He was charming. Oh, my. Abby felt she might need to grab ahold of her heart with both hands before it ruptured from her chest. First he’d rescued her, now he flattered her. “I hear I owe you a thank you.”
“Well, I never could resist a woman falling at my feet.” He winked.
Her flush burned hotter.
Fiona slapped Cal’s arm. “Stop it.”
Cal laughed and cowered from his sister in mock fear. Abby watched their exchange and felt grief pierce her heart. She and Keira used to joke around like that.
“So, Ms. Harris.” His voice turned serious. “What are you doing here in Rose Mountain?”
Pulling in a deep breath, Abby ignored the flash of guilt at using a fake name and shrugged. Hoping she came across as nonchalant, she was seriously afraid she failed. “First of all, please call me Abby. And I … um … well, I decided to take a … vacation. Unfortunately, it looks like I took a little detour instead.”
“Where are you headed?”
Anywhere that took her away from the man after her. “Nowhere specific. I was just going to find a spot that looked nice and quiet and rent a little cabin. Have some time to myself.”
“So you have no reservations somewhere?” His right brow lifted like he had trouble believing her.
Abby sighed and told the truth—at least part of it. “Look, I’ve been working very hard. There’s no mystery here. I decided to take some time off. So I got on a bus that was going in the direction I wanted to go. I’d been traveling for about four days, sightseeing, enjoying the mountains and all that touristy stuff, before I took that header in the bus station.”
“Four days?” Fiona looked shocked.
Abby forced a little laugh. “I know. It sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” Not too crazy, she hoped. After all, it was almost the complete truth. She had decided to stop and find a cabin. She just hadn’t planned on it taking her quite so long to lose her brother-in-law. At least that’s who she thought was following her.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t gotten a very good look at the man.
However, the man in the bus station definitely looked like Reese. That is, if she hadn’t been hallucinating. And if she hadn’t been hallucinating, then all of her evasive tactics had failed.
Cal settled himself in the chair in the corner and she felt his astute gaze on her. It made her want to squirm. He asked, “Do you remember what you said to me right before you passed out?”
Her mind raced. What had she said? “No, sorry, I don’t remember.”
He steepled his fingers under his chin. “You said, ‘Don’t let him get me.’”
Abby flinched. “Are you sure I said that?”
“I’m sure.”
Abby bit her lip and looked away. How should she respond? How could she explain without lying and yet protect herself at the same time.
“Are you in trouble, Abby?”
“Not with the law,” she blurted.
Compassion flickered in his eyes and he exchanged a look with Fiona. She wondered what it meant. Then he asked, “Are you involved in a domestic violence situation?”
Abby blinked. Domestic violence? “Yes, he’s—” She broke off and took a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose you could say that, which is why I probably need to leave. I sure don’t want to repay all of your kindness by bringing trouble to your doorstep.”
Cal’s jaw tightened. “Trust me, if trouble shows up on this doorstep, I’ll be ready for it.”
Abby couldn’t read the exact emotion in his eyes, but Fiona blinked fast like she was holding back tears. Wondering at the sudden tension in the room, Abby waited to see if one of them would enlighten her.
Neither did.
Well, she supposed that was only fair. She wasn’t sharing all of her secrets, either.
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