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Born to Silly Art Pack

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He tossed something onto the table, which unrolled right beside Tracy’s cup. He glanced down, and knew instantly what he was looking at. A deed. “I have no further use of this property, so perhaps you will. You know what they say about real estate: location, location, location.”
 
“Send Janet home,” Tracy spat. “We want that instead. Whatever choices I made—she didn’t. She was just being kind.”

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