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Chapter 15

Zephyra rubbed her forehead as she stepped onto her porch. The tension of the day was starting to give her a headache. When Zephyra looked up, she saw a scrap of paper taped to her door. It looked like an improvised note. Like the ones, people used to pass around before cell phones became so popular. The edges were jagged as though it had been ripped from a larger piece and folded in half. Zephyra pulled it off the door and opened it. It wasn’t handwritten but typed, and read:

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