PREVIEW

... ust tell me how you know?

Necia was laying back in a wood chair so durable that Tulland suspected it could hold up a house, blocking the sun from her eyes with her hand.

“I will if you finish cooking that stuff already. What are you making, anyway?”

“It’s a fish. I’m going to put it over rice and squeeze some fruit on it.”

“Wait, fruit? No fruit.”

“Shush, you.” Tulland flipped the fish on the big, flat piece of dark wood he was cooking it on. Somehow, and ...

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