Anya

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Lockwood cleared his throat; I pushed my hair out of my eyes. Our boots did small, intricate shuffles on the frosty ground. ‘What the hell was that?’ I said. ‘The Shadow?’ Lockwood glanced at me from under his fringe. ‘Of course the Shadow . . .’
Anya
Why are they so awkward help
The Creeping Shadow (Lockwood & Co. #4)
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