“So can I trade this…” I lift the brown package in one hand, pointing to a hairbrush on the counter with the other. “For that?”“You could,” he says, then adds something in their language to the woman behind the counter. “But you’d be severely overpaying.”I sigh and toss the package back into the wagon over my shoulder. “You’re not very helpful. Did you know that?”“My mother said those exact words to me every year on my birthday,” he says, completely straight-faced.I scowl, debating whether to tell him to fuck off. I don’t doubt he’d take it as an invitation instead of an insult.“She’ll take the brush, and these,” Jace says, tossing three opaque bottles into the cart. “Now you can give her the chuck.”What an ass.I reach into the cart and pull the package back out. “Daché,” I say, nodding toward her.Both she and Jace freeze. Just staring at me like I grew a second head.“What?” I ask, taking a small step back. I’m not even sure why. Neither of them has moved.“How did you know t
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