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Chapter Thirty Eight

"I can do it myself."

"Sit your butt down and leave it to me." Miro balanced the heavy canvas, hanging it carefully on the pristine wall. "This painting is fly. I like that word—fly. English is such an expressive language." She wiped her brow as she stepped away, and they both cocked their heads, staring at the mounted artwork. "I mean, fisheri communication skills are way more advanced and sound celestial in comparison, but I dig English."

"You 'dig' it. My painting is 'fly?'" Galene snorted. "This is what happens when you watch those nineties shows to learn English?"

"I was stuck in motel rooms while looking for you. I do like that series, 'Full House.' Ooh—and 'Friends.'"

Galene laughed, and Miro's tension eased. She'd barely slept in five days as her sister had slowly recovered. She had to force herself to think of Zalo as "Galene." When her sister finally remembered her past, she'd reclaim her birth name—hopefully.

"It's leaning towards the left." Galene pointed at the artwork a
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