“I'm not sure she will do,” he says, “she looks a bit....” Then he turns to my other self and smell the air around her. “Maybe this one.”
“It's just one of them,” Wendy says. “They are just split.”
Dylan shrugs. “It happens, it won't last long, though I maintain I like this one better.”
“And I don't like you,” my other self says. “When I'm the guardian, you're out of here.”
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