Jonas’s face remained calm as he knelt there examining the bird’s skull, but behind the unlined brow he was as furious as he had ever been in his life. “You!” he shouted at the men. The gate shivered more violently this time, the colors in the uprights brightening perceptibly. ”His smile dropped away, and she saw again—as she had for a moment or two before—the man he’d be before too many more years had passed.
Not likely. And the small, rueful smile on her face. Strapped on the roof was a complicated-looking racing bicycle; poking out of the half-open trunk was a wheelchair. We’ll do our best for our friends.
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