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... dler’s tiny shoulders. Her eyelids droop, but she still fights sleep like it’s her mortal enemy.

"Quack," she mumbles, her duck bill morphing back to human lips mid-yawn.

Sara rolls her eyes from her nest of blankets. "Just ignore her. She’ll be asleep in thirty seconds."

The feral baby protests with a grumpy babble, but it’s soft.

I smooth down a wayward curl on her forehead. "Sleep tight, baby."

True to Sara’s prediction, soft snores rise from her little ...

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