Katherine 🫶🏼

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An object dropped on her. It was cold, but not stone. This wasn’t food. She enfolded it and intended to spit it away, but then something happened. Something wonderful. She gobbled up the second one as it was dropped, and began to undulate, frantic. It came back. Memory. Knowledge. Rationality. Self. She exulted in it, ignoring the little holes that were now poked in her memory.
The Bands of Mourning (Mistborn, #6)
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