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Not panicked.
Just… steady.
His body went cold before his mind caught up.
He opened the door.
This time, it wasn’t a child.
A woman stood on the porch — mid-30s, maybe early 40s. Coat pressed. Lips tight. Arms crossed like she owned the space.
Her eyes were cold.
Calculated.
And far too familiar.
“I’m Lily’s mother,” she said flatly. “And I’m here to take her back. Now.”
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