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... dropping me to one knee. The kid caught my shoulder, saving me a fall, and I looked down to see what had tripped me. A hammer. And chisel.

"What are these?" I asked, running a finger over the crude tools. Only silence met my question, and I looked up to see tears streaming down his face.

"W-we tried everything," he whispered, voice breaking. I followed his gaze to a nearby statue, one of the cracked ones. As unfamiliar as I was with stonework, the broken arm bore the unmistakable ...

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