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Nevertheless, the guy unlocks the door and pushes inside, going through the motions. The place doesn’t look so bad at first glance. It’s been freshly painted. The smell of bleach still hangs in the air, and though the thin carpet has seen better days, it’s clearly been shampooed recently.

Jacks buries his nose in his mom’s shirt. “Smell bad,” he whispers.

Veronica pats his back and shushes him