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She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. "Well, my pretty dears," he added, "—to see your husband, eh? You must make the most of your time. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. With great difficulty, Wood forced a path through the ruins.
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