Call me conceited, but I can’t stop staring at myself in the mirror.

My hair, once tangled and waist length, has been cut to my shoulders. Kaya and Shirisha have dragged me to the salon for a four hour hair treatment which led to my new discovery. Turns out, my hair was naturally wavy and thick; I just never bothered to care for it properly. My gaze trails down to my brown legs which are silky smooth from an intense three hour body wax session. They’re exposed through the huge slit of my red satin dress which extends to my lower hip. I have to be mindful of how I move or else my black thong peeks out to say hello. Every other detail amazes me further. My toes are painted a rosy nude to compliment my seven inch suede heels. Diamond earrings that cost five times my nonexistent networth weigh down my ear lobes; they sparkle next to my glossy red lips. My sharp eyeliner lifts my face to high heaven and a fake stud bedazzles the side of my nose.

I would have stared at myself for a whole hour or so if Shisha hadn’t snuck up behind me. It takes all the discipline I have not to jolt from surprise. Her footsteps are almost unperceivable by the human ear. “Helene,” she says as she looks over my shoulder. We both gaze into the mirror, both in awe of the beautiful women reflected back at us. “We get it. You’re drop dead gorgeous. Now can we please get to the limo. We’re going to be late!”

I roll my eyes. For once, Shirisha’s being modest. I would’ve expected more cleavage from her leopard print body-con dress. Just two hours before, Shirisha was conflicted about choosing between two different types of bikinis. In the end, she opted for extra support. I made her spin around twice to check if her bikini showed through her dress.

“God, I can’t believe we’re wearing bikinis underneath our dresses. That’s so extra!” I say this as I follow Shirisha out the door. Kaya is still in her room touching up on her makeup. I don’t understand why we have to wait for a whole hour in our limo while she’s still in the house.

As we descend down the driveway, the clicks of our heels synchronise with each step we take. I think I’m imagining it, but I see the driver’s eyes widen as he greets us. We nod back, and he opens the door to let us in. Shirisha and I giggle when he closes the door. “I think he had a hard-on,” Shirsha says in a lighthearted whisper. I respond by slapping her on the arm with a playful force.

“Shirisha! That’s so inappropriate!”

“Chill, Hel.” Shirisha says with a laugh. “I’m not going to fuck the chauffeur.”

I breathe a long sigh of relief. “Thank you, Shirisha.”

Shirisha bites down on her lower lip and adds, “...at least not with you in the limo.”

I turn my face away so that she doesn’t have to see my smile. “I’m done. I’m done with you!”

“Hel!” Shirisha says, laughing. She tries to pull me closer so that I’ll have to look at her. “I was just kidding.”

“Too late.” I grab onto the door handle and threaten to pull it open. “You know what? I’ll do you a favor and hop out so you could fuck the chauffeur.”

“Stop!”

“I hope you two have fun!”

“Hel!”

“Use a condom!”

Shirisha takes me by the hand and yanks so hard that I fly into her. It causes us to smush against the other side of the limo with me on top of her. I immediately become aware of every sensation, from the cushion of her breasts against mine, to the quality fabric of her leopard print dress. Our heels awkwardly stab into the seats, and I pity the driver.

I scramble to remove myself from her. We end up sitting at the furthest ends of the limo with our arms crossed in embarrassment. Shirisha speaks first. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget how strong I am.”

“It’s fine!” The words come out quicker than I intend them to. I cringe from my own doubled embarrassment. A heavy silence suffocates the air, depriving us both of our initial excitement. Eventually, I cough to clear my throat. It prompts Shirisha to look in my direction and I replace myself getting lost in her blue eyes once again. In the dark, they look like sapphires. They’re emphasized by her brown skin and the neutral color of her dress.

“Kaya’s sure taking her time.”

“She sure is.” Shirisha forces a weak smile. “She’s usually really quick when it comes to getting ready. Maybe I’ll go check to see if she’s okay.”

I force myself to smile as well, but it weighs so heavy on my face. I feel like my lips are lifting bricks, and I don’t understand why. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Shirisha turns away to pull the door handle only to hesitate and face me again. “Hey, Hel?”

“Yeah?” My heart beats so fast that I’m afraid it’s going to burst. My ears perk up in full attention of what she has to say. It’s like she has my entire body and mind at her command; I’ll be lying if I say that it doesn’t scare me. I’m afraid in a way that I can’t describe.

“You know I love you, right?”

Shirisha presses her lips together hard as she waits for my answer. My mind goes blank. Every word, every thought, erases itself. It leaves me wandering through emptiness, rendering me dumb. I can only sputter partial incoherent syllables that fail to encapsulate feelings which I’ve yet to be aware of.

In a last attempt to fill the silence, Shirisha says, “I’m trying. I’m trying to change...to be better. I want to be better for you.” Shirisha’s stuttering now. She speaks so quickly that her words fail to align with her rapid thoughts. “I know you have every reason to hate me, and I know that I’ve been really terrible to you in the past.”

Suddenly, I replace my words again. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I was a bad friend too. I was so useless. I–I depended on you for everything.”

“Are you kidding?” Shirisha scoffs. She’s blinking back tears. The only bright side is that her mascara is waterproof. “I left you in the middle of some Chinese city. And here you are still talking to me!”

“I mean...we are on a mission after all.” My voice breaks half-way.

Shirisha sniffs. It takes all her willpower not to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. “You know that’s not the only reason why you’re with me right now.”

It takes a moment for her implied meaning to sink in. Upon realizing the truth, I scream, “No!” My voice rises astonishingly high. “No! We cannot do this right now!”

“Helene!” Shirisha’s voice cracks. She stares at me with agonizing desperation in her eyes. “Please! I know I deserve every ounce of pain I feel right now, but I’m begging you. Just tell me the truth. I need to know if you still love me.”

I stare back at her with an enclosed throat. All the words I need are stuffed in my mouth. There’s so many of them that I can’t swallow or breathe. I’m terrified of telling her the truth because the truth will do very different things for us. For Shirisha, the truth will set her free. For me? I risk getting hurt again. If I even hear myself telling her the truth, it would be like surrendering my own heart, my soul. The last time I did that, Shirisha left me out to rot.

“I love you.” Shirisha’s crying now. It hurts me so much to look at her. “I love you so much that it hurts. I’ve never stopped loving you for the last 500 years.”

“GOD!” I craddle my head in my arms. It feels like my mind is going to burst. Without realizing it, I’m crying too. “Why are you doing this to me?” I whimper. I sound like a rat someone had stepped on. I feel like a crushed rat too.

“I’m sorry!” Shirisha screams.

“Yeah? Well I’m sorry too!” I scream back.

“For what?”

And in that moment, I almost say it. I would have said it. The truth climbs up my throat, dances on my tongue, and pries open my mouth to escape. “I’m sorry that I––”

But before I could, the side door opens to let Kaya in. Her abrupt interruption scares Shirisha, causing her to slide closer to me. Kaya takes a seat next to her, pulls in the long hems of her royal blue dress, and the door slams closed. She gives an urgent command for the driver to make haste. The driver acts immediately and stomps on the accelerator, lurching us all forward. I grab onto the side handles to prevent myself from slamming into the front window.

Upon entering the limo, I notice that Kaya’s beautiful face is sunk with worry. I’m about to ask her what’s wrong when she scrunches up her nose at us both in suspicion. “What happened here? Are you girls crying?”

Shirisha feigns a laugh and blinks rapidly to fan her tears dry. “We were just having a girl moment. Isn’t that right, Helene?”

I say nothing to support Shirisha’s lie. Luckily for both of us, Kaya dismisses our tears, but her face is still heavy with worry. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

Kaya whips out her phone from a hidden dress pocket and anxiously scrolls through her feed. Had the situation been lighter, I would have taken the time to admire Kaya’s appearance. Unlike Shirisha and I, she keeps her makeup to a minimum. Her royal blue dress shimmers under dim lighting and the cut along her breasts dips down to a low V-neck to compliment her ample bosom. Her diamond earrings twinkles like stars next to her ebony skin. Her hair is done up in intricate twists, a bold statement in itself. Kaya is just one of those people who were born to shine.

Kaya glowers at her bright screen and says gravely, “In the last three hours, there’s been seven murders in New York City.”

A sharp gasp fills the air as Kaya elaborates more on the details. “Yeah. Seven. Three happened in Manhattan, two were in Brooklyn, and two more happened in Queens. The authorities suspect that there’s a team of serial killers working together. It makes sense since there were so many murders committed in such little time.”

I lean back in my seat and sigh. “Wow. That’s...really bad.”

Shirisha seems to have recovered from her heartbreak (at least temporarily) and responds with a snarky retort. “Yeah, Hel. Murder is generally ‘really bad.’”

“It’s bad because of where the murders took place. Manhattan is lynx territory, Brooklyn by vampires, and Queens is the borough of witches. Kaya. Are you sure this is a wolf crime?”

Kaya narrows her eyes at her bright screen. “It says they were all killed in the same way: prolonged mutilation. Ripped limbs...torn throat. Sounds wolfish to me.”

“And you’re sure this Antonio guy is going to give us answers, right?”

Kaya breaks through her grim expression to give me a confident smile. “Trust me. Antonio is aware of every deviant wolf activity in The Bronx. He’ll give us some answers.”

We arrive at a huge skyscraper that’s tall enough to jab the half-moon by its underside. Just staring at it makes me feel small. My neck cramps up when I crane my head back to look at all the tiny glowing windows that seem to rise into the infinite sky. Each row marks a story, and I lose count at forty. The building is a monstrous piece of gleaming steel which intimidates all the puny bodegas and neighboring inns.

I force myself to return my gaze to eye-level. I replace the crowd of people loitering on the pavement much more comforting. They’re standing in a long line, waiting for the bouncer to check them off on his tablet. I would have groaned just thinking about how long we would have waited in the line when Kaya struts towards the front and bids us to follow her. People jeer at her, telling her to get in line. Kaya doesn’t bother to turn around and flips them all the finger. I can’t help but smile. It’s one of the perks of being the guest of a VIP.

The party is held on the 91st floor. The only way to get there is by elevator. The elevator ride gives us just enough time to lay out our plan.

“Alright, Hel. I know it’s been a while since you’ve crashed a party, so I’ll simplify it for you. Be happy. Be fun. Act drunk without having to drink. And remember, sexuality is a weapon. Use it.” Shirisha points a stiff finger at me which I playfully push away.

“Nice pep talk, Shirisha.”

Kaya glances at the glowing up arrow. We’re three floors away from the penthouse. I could already hear the lively music humming through the steel walls of the elevator. “I say we divide and conquer. If we spread out, we’ll gain more information that way.”

Shirisha snickers as we approach the 91st floor. The elevator comes to a halt. “I bet I’ll replace Antonio first.”

I glance down with a coy smile. My competitive nature gets the best of me, and I’m suddenly invigorated with the desire to win. “Bet.”

The elevator opens, inviting us into a neon party scene. The music is loud and clear. People are already clinging onto the walls. There’s liquor bottles littering the floor. Clouds of smoke linger in the air, the tell-tale sign that everyone is higher than a kite. Towards the back, I see some guy playing a virtual reality-game. A thick pair of goggles straps onto his face as his arms are spread out like he’s flying.

The three of us step out of the elevator to observe the scene more clearly. I fold my arms across my chest and shake my head in disapproval. “I just remembered why I hate parties!” I have to shout over the music in order to make myself heard.

Shirisha squeezes my arm; it’s a gesture to wish me luck. “Just do your job!”

The three of us part ways, and I immediately head towards the dance floor. I replace it easy to immerse myself into a crowd of sweaty swaying bodies. It doesn’t take me long to grab myself a dance partner and we start talking.

“How do you know Antonio?” I say as I shuffle side to side, mirroring her movements. Sweat plasters my wavy hair to my face. It’s so hot that I develop a need for water, but the only beverage available has a fourteen percent alcohol content. I curb my thirst to the side and focus on flirting with my partner. She’s cute in a girlish way. Her red hair is pulled back into a casual bun while the rest of her flaunts a two-piece dress. She gives me an apologetic look before plugging one of her ears with a finger and tries to shout over the music.

“What?”

I force myself to shout louder. “I SAID, ‘HOW DO YOU KNOW ANTONIO?’”

“OH!” The girl grins and says, “I MET HIM AT MY EX’S PARTY! HE MAKES THE BEST MOLLY!” She takes out a small bag from her bra and offers it to me. “WANT SOME?”

Of course, I politely decline. I continue my interrogation and the girl happily goes along. “WHAT ELSE DOES HE MAKE?”

“EVERY DRUG YOU CAN IMAGINE! EVEN THE KIND THAT DOESN’T EXIST YET!”

“LIKE WHAT?”

The girl eyes me suspiciously, so I distract her by twerking on the dance floor. To my surprise, the other dancers momentarily stop to cheer me on. The beat drops in the background and I improvise a half-hazard dance move that makes the crowd cheer. The girl’s suspicion fades as we continue to dance together.

“WOW! I DID NOT EXPECT THAT!”

I flip my hair back and said, “WHAT CAN I SAY? I’M FULL OF SURPRISES. NOW WHAT WERE YOU SAYING ABOUT ANTONIO?”

The girl and I switch positions so that she’s behind me. We grind for some time before she leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Don’t tell this to anybody, but Antonio told me that he has the cure for cancer.”

I gasp to exaggerate my surprise. “No way!”

“Yeah! But it’s supposed to be a big secret. He’s scared if the government replaces out, they’ll burn everything.”

“Antonio’s so cool.” I put on a mask of longing and scan the dance floor, pretending to look for a familiar face. “You know, I haven’t seen Antonio in so long.”

The girl falls for my trick and swoons sympathetically. “You guys are good friends?”

“Yeah. We’ve been friends since we were kids. I haven’t seen him in five years, and I flew all the way here from London just to see him. And it’s also my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” The girl pouts. “You poor thing! You know what? I think I saw him on the rooftop swimming with his entourage. I think he’s still there. I’m Rachel by the way!”

I nearly blow my cover as my real name dances at the tip of my tongue. With a harsh swallow, I say, “Cindy.”

To be honest, I kinda feel bad lying to her. Had the circumstances been different, we would have become friends. Rachel gives me a wide toothy smile as she waves me off. “I’ll see you around, Cindy! It was nice meeting you!”

I wave at her back. When I see her re-immerse herself on the dance floor, I run up the stairs, making sure to hike up my skirt. I learn quickly that it’s really hard to run in seven-inch heels. I opt to walk up the stairs instead and wander down the halls of the penthouse where I replace a door that opens up to the roof. I’m instantly welcomed into clean and crisp air that’s not polluted with drugs. It clears up my lungs and refreshes my mind.

I walk out, exploring the rooftop. I immediately notice that there’s less people on the roof and it’s quieter. I can hear the sounds of rushing water and jetstreams humming underneath. There’s a huge pool that extends past the rooftop, framed by indestructible plexiglass. The bottom’s clear so that you could see the city down below. There’s at least ten girls crowded in the pool. They’re all beautiful, glamorous, and come from all kinds of ethnic backgrounds. They’re sandwiched in between a single man (I assume him to be Antonio) who does most of the talking while he occasionally takes sips from his glass of white wine. Bodyguards hang around the pool with a daunting presence, each standing stiff and erect like an array of intimidating soldiers.

I take a moment or two to mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to do. When I close my eyes, I hear Shirisha’s message replay in my head.

Sexuality is a weapon. Use it.

The message gives me enough courage to strut towards the pool. I’m careful to avoid looking at Antonio. I remind myself that I’m in my own little world. In my world, I’m alone. In my world, I’m irresistibly sexy. In my world, my confidence towers over the skyscraper I’m standing on.

I stand next to a pool chair and begin stripping away. My heels come off first, and I stack them neatly on the chair. All my moves are deliberate, from my fingers delicately rubbing at my sore ankles, to my nails tracing down the hems of my dress. My dress falls to the ground, revealing my bare skin and my white bikini underneath. Even though I pretend to be oblivious, I hear everything that’s being said about me. The jealous whispers eventually make their way towards my ears. It amuses me.

“Who’s she?”

One girl asks inquisitively. She looks to the others for answers, and I can tell that she feels threatened despite trying to hide her insecurity with a frigid smile. One of the girls whispers back to her.

“She looks like the Parisian runway model I worked with two weeks ago. I forgot her name.”

“Runway model?” Another girl scoffs. I distinguish her as the boldest of the group. “That can’t be. Look at her! She can’t be more than 5’6 at most. She’s too short and she’s got something going on with her––” The girl slaps her nonexistent love handles which makes the other girls giggle.

Her teasing sends a wave of heat to my cheeks. Upon realizing my embarrassment, I forcefully crush it. Right now is not the time to feel insecure. I need my confidence more than ever.

I begin waltzing towards the pool and lower myself down the edge. The girls crowd around the perimeter defensively. The bold one shoots me down with a haughty smirk and says, “Sorry. I don’t believe there’s any more room.”

I return her smirk with my own. I refuse to be bullied or intimidated by someone lesser than me. “Sorry. I don’t believe I asked for your permission.”

The girl responds by laughing at me. I’m amusing her. And telling from Antonio’s placid expression, I’m entertaining him as well. “Just who do you think you are?”

My eyes flit over to the candles lighting up the poolside. Their flickering orange embers sway gently in the night, waving me hello. A mischievous smile grows on my face, and I return my gaze back to the girl. “I don’t think you’re ready to replace out.”

The girl grits her teeth in frustration. I hear a soft growl rising from her throat and it riles me to the bone. “Watch it, Bitch. If I wanted to, I can gut you like a fish.”

“You’re cute.” I bend down and kiss her cheek. My lips sizzle against her wet skin upon impact, causing her to yelp in pain. The initial tease sends the girl on a rampage. She grabs me by the ankle and yanks me into the pool. My body submerges underwater but before I get the chance to rise, the girl puts me in a chokehold. I scream and thrash underwater, but the girl’s hold on me restricts even tighter. My body desperately needs air. I feel my face turn hot and my body slow sluggishly. All at once, I stop moving.

My eyes open underwater, and I see light. Every detail becomes blurred, but I immediately become aware that every other swimmer has abandoned the pool. It’s just me and the girl.

Think smarter, Helene.

Luka’s voice penetrates my ears. I can hear him in my mind. Think smart.

But how? I have no weapon. I’m running out of oxygen. There’s a real chance I might drown.

She’s like a little firefly. This time it’s Shirisha’s voice that speaks to me. You know, the ones that light up in the dark?

I am light. It’s difficult, but I command my hands to flip over. My palms face me. I focus on the emotions running through my veins. My adrenaline keeps my mind alert despite the fact that I’m drowning.

I am a firefly. I am light in darkness. I am strong.

My palms ignite with an intense green fire that I’ve never seen in my life. They burn with determination, with a fury that water can’t extinguish. The water turns hot around me. Bubbles rise to the surface as proof of water boiling. And then, the hands let me go. I rise to the surface. My head breaks through and I gasp my first breath of fresh air.

I gasp. I cough. I breathe like a fish until my vision clears. A hand grabs me out of the water and drags me out of the pool. I swing at my assailant, but Shirisha’s voice stops me cold. “Helene?” She sounds worried. Her gentle hands smooth my hair away from my face. I realize that I’m lying on her lap and coughing up mouthfuls of water. “Helene?”

I wheeze. Water oozes out of my nose. I’m aware that it’s a very unattractive sight, but all I can focus on is the pain in my lungs. “Helene?” Shirisha’s voice breaks. She’s crying over me. Her tears splash on my cheeks, and I groan.

“Please.” I cough. “No more water.”

Shirisha’s worried expression breaks into a grin. “Oh my god! You’re okay!”

I force myself to sit up. Shirisha holds me down before I can stand. I anxiously look for my assailant, but the rooftop is void of people. “Where’s the bitch that tried to kill me?”

“She’s gone.” The voice isn’t from Shirisha but Kaya. She stares me down with a grave look. I notice that her royal blue dress is damp with water and realize that she also played a role in saving me. “Most of the girls fled when you tried to boil them alive. The girl that drowned you? I took care of her. Let’s just say she won’t be bothering you anytime soon.”

Shirisha wrings my hair in her hands and squeezes out enough water so that it stops dripping. I stare down at Kaya’s toes and utter, “Thanks.”

Kaya gives me a single nod before turning her gaze towards the pool chairs. I watch as her face sours. “Antonio.” Kaya’s careful to keep her voice leveled, but I can tell that she’s pissed off. “You got some nerve hanging around here. I don’t appreciate that you let my friend drown.”

Antonio takes a final sip from his glass of white wine before setting it down on a table. He lets out a low chuckle and says, “Well, it is my penthouse, after all. You can’t expect me to leave. But as for your second point, I apologize. Miranda has always been a bit...fickle. How can I make it up to you? I hate it when people come home from my parties dissatisfied.”

Shirisha replaces a towel hanging on the pool chair and wraps it around my shoulders. Then, she turns to Antonio. “We want answers.”

“Oh.” Antonio’s voice heightens with interest. “Well in that case, I need you to do something for me.”

“I almost died!” The abruptness of my shouting startles everyone. Antonio recovers first and lets out another chuckle. I want to punch him in his square jaw.

“Forgive me for being rude, but that was entirely your fault. No one told you to pick fights.”

“You know that’s not what happened!”

Antonio only does a slight shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I usually try to pacify people through means of drugs. I have lots of free samples if you’re still interested.”

“We don’t want drugs.” Kaya says calmly. “If you could please take the time to talk with us, you would see that the issue we’ll present to you affects you as well.”

Antonio breathes out a deep sigh and leans on the edge of the rooftop to gaze at the half-moon. The moon’s milky luminescence entrances him and reflects back in his brown irises. “Answers are very valuable. But if what you’re saying is true...that this issue affects me as well––”

“It has everything to do with your drug smuggler, Luis.”

Antonio snorts out of his nose. “That is a very heavy topic that brings me a lot of pain. I think I’ll need something to ease my stress first.” His eyes fill up with greed as his glance switches back from me to Shirisha. “I want you two to kiss.”

“No!” I make myself stand. My legs shake from underneath me, but they hold up my weight. “I refuse to surrender my body for your stupid entertainment!”

“Well then,” Antonio says as he begins walking towards the door that would lead him back into his penthouse. “I suddenly don’t feel like talking.”

Kaya blocks his path and brings her hand to her chest. She pounds on her heart. “I can kiss her. Let me do it.” Kaya’s voice quivers. She sounds desperate and nervous. There’s longing in her tone that makes me realize the cruel truth. Kaya was in love with Shirisha this whole time.

Antonio tilts his head to the side to think and quickly makes his mind. He gives her an affirmative, “No. It has to be them.”

Shirisha gives me a pitiful look and pleads with me, “Please Hel. It’s just a stupid kiss.”

My heart beats rapidly in my chest. I’m inflicted with the urge to puke up my guts. The whole situation we’re in is wrong. The thought of kissing Shirisha fills me with disgust, not because I hate her but because the situation brings up brutal memories of the little girl that suffered so long ago. I see the memories flicker in my mind; it paralyzes me with fear.

Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! You’re hurting me!

I remember how trapped I felt under my husband’s body as he violated me. I remember how betrayed I felt when my cries dissolved into the cold mountain air. Ever since then, I swore to myself that I would never do anything against my will again. My eyes brim with tears as I think of it.

“No, Shirisha.”

Shirisha’s eyelids fall halfway as she looks at me. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Her brown skin is flushed, and I notice that her chest heaves up and down with laborious movements. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Before I have time to react, she calls Antonio and pulls my face towards hers. She kisses me roughly as I try to pull away. Shirisha grabs my wrists so that I can’t hit her and holds them with a deadly grip by my sides. I want to scream in pain and anger at her betrayal. Everything about her kiss is forceful. Her tongue pries my lips open and forces me to take it all. Tears dribble down my face as I endure the act. My vomit swims inside me as I imagine Antonio’s gratified face sneering at us.

Eventually, the act is done. I’m left to vomit into the pool as Shirisha and Kaya talk business with Antonio. Their dialogue mingles together into jumbled up nonsense which passes over my head. I don’t even bother to listen or understand. I’m inebriated with my own destructive thoughts. I can’t decide whether I want to scream so loud that the moon explodes or fall into a permanent sleep to ease my agony.

Once Kaya and Shirisha finish up their conversation, we head back to the limo. Shirisha tries to make me talk, but my mouth is sealed shut. I can’t look at her without feeling nauseous.

“I’m sorry.” Shirisha whimpers. “I’m so sorry.”

I turn my body away so that I don’t have to face her. I fall asleep on the way back to Kaya’s condo.

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