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Chapter 42: A Deal

My chest constricts. "What?"

"I might say the same of you," Orlando repeats.

"What do you mean?"

"You and your so-called 'doodles.' " He watches me levelly. "You claim you aren't an artist. You claim you can't tell stories. But I've seen your work, Maggie. I told you the first day we met that you...

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