[ When he shelters her again with his umbrella, she smiles at him again, this time with a dimple. She thanks him, then listens. First, hope. Then less so. Biting the inside of her bottom lip, Clara studies the mask, the sound of him speaking clacking in her mind. Her smile has faded, but she's no less gentle. ]
Your father sounds pretty powerful. Did he decide I'm not anyone because I don't know enough to see?
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Your father sounds pretty powerful. Did he decide I'm not anyone because I don't know enough to see?