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Chapter 17: What Makes Me Different

I have no idea how to answer Dante's probing question.

Suddenly a woman - the red-haired one Dante was standing with earlier - appears at his side. Ashlyn, I remember.

"I told you not to give her the third degree," she says to him. To me, she adds, "I hope he isn't bothering you."

"He's not," I say quickly.

She smiles. It's a pretty, genuine smile, and I get the distinct impression that this woman is normal, like me. A regular person. Maybe ...

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