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... ere taken in by Thomas Shannon.
"What’s wrong?" He took her hand away from her face; his fingertips were ice-cold and trembling slightly.
He held her cold hand, his thin lips pressed tightly. "Are you very cold?"
Sophie Sullivan shook her head wearily, unwilling to say anything.
"Tell me, what did you dream about?"
She had been touching her face; had she dreamt about her face?
They were very close, and Thomas Shannon’s deep, magnetic voice sounded ...
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