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... e approached. I watched as he crouched down and helped me pick them up. I was shocked at first, but then I recognized the tattooed hand. It was the same person who had stopped me from going after Clara.

"What are you doing?" I asked him as I wiped the tears pouring from my eyes.

Those forest green eyes landed on me. "Helping you." He said in a matter of fact tone.

"You don’t have to do this," I said, my voice flat. "I can do it by myself."

"Nonsense," he replied, ...

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