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Ethan carefully eased Noah into the back seat, treating him as if he were made of glass. The crumpled old blanket he had found on the floor smelled faintly of gasoline and wintergreen air freshener. He wrapped it around his shoulders and down over his bare legs, pulling the edges together until only his pale, tear-stained face was visible in the dim light. The bruises marring his throat and upper arms stood out starkly against the soft gray wool, and each time his fingers brushed against one, he felt his heart crack a little more.
