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The East Wing

Welcome home, Ava," David called, his voice carrying across the driveway.

He descended the steps with surprising agility for a man in his seventies, making his way directly to her.

Up close, the resemblance was undeniable. They shared the same high cheekbones, the same determined set of the jaw. Most strikingly, they had identical eyes, a beautiful shade of green with flecks of gold.

"Mr. Cardwell," she began, extending her hand formally, her nervousness showing in her ...

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