Amy

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Hopes sinking, I pulled off the lid, and then I groaned aloud. “Oh, come on.” It was full of papers. Yellow legal-pad papers this time, all folded in half and covered in the same janky, chicken-scratch handwriting I was starting to loathe. “This guy really needs a better filing system,” Sibyl said as I dumped the papers out into my lap.
Minimum Wage Magic (DFZ, #1)
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