#38300 - Then she turned without a word and went up the steps to go back out into the light, the cans clutched to her almost protectively. Wasn't it? She looked from my uncle and her father, back at my doorway one last time, before she turned away and ran quickly up the steps into her father's Sandcrawler, leaving behind the touch, taste and scent. She straightened back up with a giggle, turning back to me and chittering about it all in her own language as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
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