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... he sat up from the bed, his gaze fixed on Camilla with an almost ravenous intensity.
"You recognized me, didn’t you?"
His voice was hoarse and low, as though suppressing a storm of emotions.
Camilla bit down hard on her lower lip, hesitating for a long moment before finally nodding.
"Sweetheart, I’m sorry."
She knew—this was Sinclair from her past life.
The sweetheart who had held her as they died together.
"Never apologize to me," Sinclair ...
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