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Learned the indigo vats from her father's father; the dye lives under her fingernails now, a second skin. She moves through Martine Rose like someone who has already decided what stays and what dissolves.
The scar across her left temple catches light when she tilts her head to study fabric — a thin white line that pulls her left eye fractionally higher than the right, as if she's always half-questioning what she sees.
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