"Yeah. It was a crap move." Kenzi stretched over the back of the couch, and fished out the harp. "So. I'm pretty sure this thing hates me, but they got the stuff back from the shop."
Cecil came in and stood by the door just long enough to let Foucault follow, then flopped down next to Kenzi and did his best to wrap her in a hug. "Hi. I heard you were sick from that...whatever."
"Stupid cursed ring," Kenzi said, hugging him back. "Awwww. It's good to see you. Does Foucault want a snack?" She sighed. "You didn't get caught in this mess?"
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She hoped so. She'd been a little fuzzy there on Tuesday. And Wednesday.
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He knocked on the door. "Kenzi?"
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