PREVIEW

... to notify Jasmine that I had returned before trudging through the muddy snow, bike in tow, to the garage.

Jasmine was already there, waiting for me with a downcast face. She gave me a halfhearted flick of a hand and turned toward the adjoined briefing rooms.

We passed by room after room, each dark and empty, until we finally arrived at one that somehow seemed more solemn than the rest.

Jasmine just stood there, massaging her temples. I tried to speak, but Jasmine started ...

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