The door to Bert's office opened before I could run off to the bathroom. I did not want a repeat of what had happened in the car. Stocked up on what? I asked. I thrust my power outward like a defending blade.
But it was more than the look on his face. In real life, it's narrow, cluttered, and looks like a cross between a plumber's van and the Good Humor truck, if it sold guns instead of ice cream. Byron had not been on the list, nor had Clay. I remembered Micah had had to go out and save one of Richard's wolves.
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