Anxious Pacing
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Clinton paced slowly, testing the air, scanning corners. He tapped one wall, then another, considering. Finally, he straightened. “This could work,” he said firmly.
No hesitation, no second-guessing. They had their space. Without wasting another moment, the two men exchanged a look of unspoken agreement. The shed wasn’t finished, but it was ready enough. The transformation would start immediately.
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