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... lept more deeply, his rest was still broken, and though he’d eaten, it wasn’t enough.

When Jayah examined the small boy his wail of protest was still weak, his flailing still jerky and lacking strength. And his stomach still distended.

He braced against pain when it was touched. His skin and eyes still dull.

But he was alive. Alive and stronger than he’d been the day before, Sasha was certain of it.

“Thank you, thank you,” the woman whispered endlessly as Jayah di ...

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