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Sensational
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Текст книги "Sensational"


Автор книги: Janet Nissenson



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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ten Days Later – Andaman and Nicobar Islands

Lauren wondered if she would ever be able to drink enough to forget what had easily been the most humiliating night of her entire life – only to recall that too much alcohol had been the cause of said humiliation. She groaned again, as she had done every single time she’d thought of that awful night in New York two weeks ago – the one where she had made a fool out of herself in too many ways to count.

It had been bad enough that she’d actually gotten drunk – something she hadn’t done for a long, long time. She’d initially blamed her inebriation on mixing alcohol, which she rarely did, and on those damned pisco sours that had admittedly had a real kick to them.

But her humiliation hadn’t ended with her very public exhibition of drunkenness. It had continued – big time – when she’d come this close to seducing Ben in her aunt’s living room, practically stripping naked in the process.

And even that hadn’t been quite enough debasement for one night. Oh, no, then she’d had to go and upchuck rather brilliantly, suffering the added shame of Ben holding her hair back and then wiping her face off. It was the last part, perhaps, that really made her wince to recall.

She wondered now, while sipping a glass of wine and watching the stars come out, how much farther things would have progressed that evening if she hadn’t lost the battle with her overwhelming urge to hurl. Would Ben have called a halt to their hot, urgent, hump-fest? Was he even now regretting what he’d done, feeling guilty because of Elle? There had been no direct communication from him in the two weeks that the crew had been gone. As usual these days, George was the crew’s point of contact and the one to touch base with headquarters.

But Lauren couldn’t help wishing – expecting – hoping – that Ben might have sent her a personal email or called her cell phone to – what? Apologize? See how she was feeling after what had certainly been a real bitch of a hangover? Set up a time to finally have that long overdue talk?

She shook her head impatiently, furious at herself to feel disappointed, and that she had ever allowed herself to feel hope. It couldn’t have been more obvious that Ben deeply regretted their heated make-out session, and that he’d very intentionally not contacted her as a way of re-establishing boundaries between them. He was still with Elle, after all, and even though there had been no announcement of an engagement as yet, that didn’t mean it wasn’t forthcoming. And Lauren had definitely made a fool of herself with her wanton behavior that night, especially since Ben now knew without a doubt that she was still attracted to him. She had no idea how she was going to be able to face him in a couple of days, and even less idea how she could possibly continue to work with him now.

The emails had been drafted for days now. She had typed both of them up her second night here in the islands, and had made daily revisions to the longer of the two. But she’d lacked the nerve to actually press the Send button, knowing there would be repercussions involved when she did.

This trip to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands had been a bittersweet one for Lauren. The crew had made the most of their time here – snorkeling, diving, exploring – and she had loved the wildness of the place, the unspoiled beaches, the spicy, exotic foods.

But always in the back of her mind had been the thought that this would in all likelihood be her last trip with Karl, Chris, and George – her final assignment with the magazine. It all depended on whether or not she had the guts to hit that damned Send button.

The sliding door of the room next to hers opened, and Karl ambled out onto his adjoining balcony, carrying a bottle of some local beer.

“Thought I’d find you out here,” he drawled, resting his arms on the balcony railing just as she was doing.

She shrugged. “Our last night here. Might as well enjoy it. When we get back to New York in a couple of days – literally, thanks to our fantastic flight arrangements – it will already be autumn. Summer will be over.”

“Not for long,” reminded Karl. “When it’s autumn in New York, it’s spring in other parts of the world. And you can’t stop the seasons from changing, kiddo. Nothing stays the same forever, you know.”

Lauren reached across the low ledge that separated their balconies and hooked her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Don’t remind me, you jerk. We’ve had a good thing going these last few years – you, me, and Chris – and now you want to spoil it all.”

Karl chuckled, pressing a brotherly kiss to the top of her head. “Matter of opinion, Your Majesty. I can tell you that my new wife has a very different point of view.”

She shook her head. “Don’t forget I’ve been caught in the middle of too many of your epic battles over the years. How in hell are you going to actually live together?”

“I’ll admit the thought has me a little worried, to,” replied Karl. “But ever since Tam found out she was pregnant, our whole relationship has changed. It’s like we both decided at the same time to put aside our individual issues and focus on raising our kid the right way. We decided,” he added somberly, “that it was finally time for both of us to grow up.”

Lauren stuck her lip out in a pout. “Well, hell, where’s the fun in that?” she joked. “Maybe some of us don’t want to grow up, you know?”

“I know,” Karl told her gently, squeezing her shoulder. “But like it or not, kiddo, it’s time. At least for me and Tam. Having a baby is serious stuff, and I can’t continue taking the risks involved when we go on these trips.”

“Risks? Hah! What risks?” she demanded. “It’s not like we’re war correspondents or anything.”

“Agreed. But we do take risks every time we’re on an assignment. Like rappelling down canyons, flying in small planes and helicopters, bar fights in Croatia,” he teased. “Not to mention that all this traveling is hard on a relationship. Ben’s going to have a tough decision on his hands if he decides to – uh, never mind.”

But Lauren was like the proverbial dog with a bone when she scented some juicy gossip. “What about Ben? And what’s this tough decision he has to make? Oh. Do you mean about the engagement?”

Karl gave her an odd look. “What engagement? To Elle? Who told you that?”

Lauren drained her wine glass. “She did. Just before they went on that trip to Spain last month. She seemed pretty sure that he was going to pop the question during their vacation.”

Karl shook his head. “First time I’m hearing about it. And given the fact that Ben might decide to take my job when I leave at the end of the year, I doubt he’s thinking about getting married. And – ah, shit, I just spilled the beans, didn’t I?”

She laughed and placed a smacking kiss on his bearded cheek. “You always were lousy at keeping secrets. It’s one of the many things I’m going to miss about you. Now, what’s all this about Ben taking your job? Where did you hear that bit of news?”

He sighed. “I really shouldn’t say anything, especially since I was the one who put the idea in his head right before we left on this trip. Who knows if he’s taking it seriously or not. But it sounds like he definitely won’t be staying in his current job once his contract’s up. Hates all the paper pushing and the meetings, and not being part of the action.”

“Wow.” She shook her head in disbelief. “That would be – mind-blowing. I mean, it’s not only a complete change of direction in his career, but it would mean a pay cut as well. And I can’t imagine Elle would be too happy with him traveling so much. She seems – needy.”

Karl guffawed. “Ya think? Not to mention the bigger issue that I pointed out to Ben – namely, how Elle would really, really not like the idea of him traveling with you. I doubt she could handle the two of you taking the Staten Island Ferry together, much less traveling to exotic locales for two weeks at a time.”

Lauren stared at her co-worker slack-jawed. “You told him that?” she croaked. “What – what did he say?”

Karl gave her a devilish grin. “Well, he didn’t deny it, if that’s what you mean. And he also acknowledged that – what was all that again – oh, yeah. He admitted that he thinks you’re hot, and that the two of you might have some quote unquote “chemistry” between you but that there was nothing actually going on. And while the first two points are so obvious that a total stranger would pick up on them within twenty seconds, I’m not buying the third one. Because I’ve known for a long time now, kiddo, that you and the boss have a real thing for each other. It’s like an electrical storm every time the two of you are in the same room.”

It was one of the very few times in her life that Lauren was rendered speechless. Karl looked very smug as he drank his beer, and she was sorely tempted to give him a shove or pull his long hair in retaliation. And even though it was a true rarity for her, she also knew when to concede a point.

She acknowledged with a scowl that there was no way she was going to be able to bluff or bullshit her way out of this one. Karl knew her too well, and had obviously taken very thorough notice of her reaction to the little bombshell he had just dropped on her.

“Shit.” She drained her wine glass and held up the nearly empty bottle. “If we’re going to have this discussion, we’re definitely going to need more booze. Story of my life.”

***

Forty minutes later, Karl was the one who had been rendered speechless.

“Wow,” was all he could say. He was now sitting out on Lauren’s balcony beside her, having fetched another bottle of wine that they had just about polished off by now.

“Yeah. It’s pretty messed up, isn’t it?” she asked, blowing out a breath. “And now I’ve got no clue what to do. I still love the bastard like I’ll never love anyone else, but I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for what he did. And where does Elle figure into all of this?”

Karl nodded. “It’s a real clusterfuck, that’s for sure. But your aunt was right, kiddo. Whatever it is that Ben has to tell you, you owe it to yourself to hear him out. And given what I know about him – what a good guy he is – I’m pretty sure he had a solid reason for what he did.”

“I can’t imagine what. In fact, I’ve spent the better part of six years trying to figure it out,” she admitted.

“Stubborn, bossy broad,” declared Karl. “You should have let him explain a long time ago, saved both of you a lot of grief.”

Lauren shook her head. “You don’t know that. I mean, if he cared about me that much, then why did he leave? It was good between us, Karl, really good. I know he couldn’t have faked that, nobody could. So did he get cold feet, have another girlfriend or secret family stashed somewhere, owed money to the mob? And believe me, those are some of the more logical explanations I’ve come up with over the years.”

“Jesus, with that sort of imagination, you should be the one writing books,” chuckled Karl. “Look, stop driving yourself nuts and just let the guy talk, okay? I mean, I get it that he broke your heart but enough is enough, kiddo. Stop being so goddamned stubborn for once in your life and just listen to him.”

“I tried, remember?” she replied sullenly. “He was too busy to talk. Told me to send him an email. And that’s exactly what I’m tempted to do. In fact, I’ve got one in my draft folder, all ready to send. Along with my letter of resignation.”

Karl heaved a sigh. “Are you still on that? You know this is just a knee jerk reaction, Lauren. You love your job. And you love Ben. And if you can be a little patient, you might be able to have both. Because my guess is that Ben is well aware that he’d have to choose between Elle and this job. And if having you along is thrown in as a bonus, I’d take that bet all day long as to what his choice would be.”

“A bonus, huh? How flattering,” she retorted. “But what if you’re wrong, Karl? What if he is serious about Elle and plans to stay in his current job? Because if that’s the case, there is no way I can go on this way.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “It’s too hard, you know? To see him so often and know he’s with her. To not be able to tell him how I feel. So if he stays with her – I go. I’m going to go out of my mind soon otherwise.”

Karl squeezed her hand. “Then tell him, honey. You’re the bravest, ballsiest chick I’ve ever met. Nothing intimidates you or scares you off. So as soon as we get back to New York, you march into Ben’s office, lock the door, and tell him everything you just told me. Life’s too short, kiddo, so stop wasting it, okay?”

Karl’s words remained with her for the rest of the evening as she finished packing and got ready for bed. She took out her laptop to check her email one more time, and once again read over the two unsent messages in her draft folder. She wound up deleting one of them, and making yet another minor revision to the other, but held off on sending it.

Her sleep was restless, a rarity for her since she usually slept like a log. But the conversation she’d had with Karl had set the wheels in motion in her brain, and try as she might she couldn’t stop them from spinning out of control.

It was nearly an hour before her alarm was due to go off when she gave up on the thought of sleeping, figuring that with the twenty four plus hours of flying ahead of her that she could sleep on one or all of the four flights. She took a leisurely shower, dressed, and booted up her laptop again, answering several emails and checking a variety of websites.

And then, just before she had to leave to meet the others, she hit Send.

***

“For fuck’s sake, Georgina, you do not have to vomit again. It’s all in your head, understand? We have less than five minutes to make this connecting flight, and I swear if you make us miss it I’ll lock you in that damned toilet for two days.”

But for once George was not letting Lauren boss him around, groaning loudly as he clutched his unsettled belly. “I can’t help it,” he gasped. “Go on without me if you have to, but I’ve got to – oh, damn!”

Before Lauren could hold him back, George dashed into the men’s room, pressing a hand to his mouth as he disappeared from sight.

“Damn him and his delicate digestive system!” cursed Lauren, kicking the nearest wall in frustration. “And damn Nadine for booking us connecting flights barely thirty minutes apart. I mean, even if it wasn’t still monsoon season the odds of a flight delay in this part of the world are pretty high. You guys do realize that if we miss this flight to Delhi it’s going to have a ripple effect and screw up the next two flights as well.”

Karl patted her on the back. “Calm down, kiddo. George can’t help it if he’s got motion sickness. And it was a pretty turbulent flight, you must admit. I’m a little queasy myself.”

Lauren glared at him. “You’re not helping, Karl. It’s bad enough we’ve got to take four flights, but Chennai International would not be my first – or even my hundred and first – choice of airports to hang around in for a few hours waiting for a new connection.”

Chris nodded. “I’m with Lauren. Maybe we should just run for the gate and let George find his own way home. Why should we have to be miserable just because he’s got a weak gut?”

“And don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, someone who already knew he suffered from motion sickness shouldn’t have taken this job?” muttered Lauren darkly. “Considering that eighty percent of this job involves travel.”

George emerged from the men’s room a few seconds later, looking as though he was about to collapse. He was pale, sweating, and shaking, and Lauren grabbed his arm impatiently, plucking his laptop bag from his other hand and tossing it to Karl.

“Come on, Georgina,” she told him irritably. “We’ve now got about ninety seconds before our flight to Delhi takes off, so you’d better be prepared to run for your life. Otherwise, your head’s going to be the next thing that gets flushed down that toilet.”

***

New York

It was just past six a.m. when Ben emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist while he used a second to dry his hair. His bedroom was dimly lit as he began to pull clothes from his closet and dresser, not worrying about waking Elle at such an early hour since she was fast asleep across the hall.

Since her parents had returned to England more than three weeks ago, he had yet to return to Elle’s bed. He’d been spending a lot of extra time at the office, arriving in very early and staying until well past quitting time. He had admittedly been avoiding her, not ready just yet to have “the talk”, but he hoped his increasing absences were also helping in his quest to let her down easy.

There was no possible way, he reasoned as he pulled on a pair of jeans, that Elle could not realize their relationship had some serious problems. Aside from the fact that they hadn’t slept together in months, he had become increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative. But Elle continued to act as if nothing was wrong, smiling and conversing normally, and not addressing the oversized elephant in the room. That she was in a state of denial was glaringly obvious, and Ben resolved not to keep her in limbo any longer. He was going to talk to her this weekend, he promised himself, even if it was a certainty that there would be a huge scene.

He would stay in a hotel for a week or two until he could find a short-term rental. Elle would be upset, deeply emotional, but it was the right thing to do for both of them. He just hoped that eventually she would come to accept that fact, though he feared it would be a hard truth for her to acknowledge.

His cell phone buzzed just as he finished buttoning his shirt. Ben frowned, for no one ever called him this early, even a crew member who was more than halfway around the world. And as he glanced at the caller ID, he noticed it was a local number.

“Hello?” he said, his heart beginning to beat a little faster in trepidation. After all, who’d be calling him this early with good news?”

“Ben. God, oh God. It’s Nadine. And, oh Jesus, I just had the news on. I was getting ready to go out for a run and I always listen to CNN at this time of the morning.” Nadine was babbling, pretty close to being hysterical. “And, God, the plane – there’s been a crash, Ben. A flight out of Chennai headed for Delhi. And, Jesus, I’m almost positive it’s the flight that George and the others were supposed to be taking.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Ben, Robert McKinnon is on the line for you.”

Ben closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose where a dull headache had begun several hours ago, and had gradually spread to what felt like his entire body. He’d been expecting this call from Lauren’s family, had in fact picked up the phone three different times to call them first, but had been interrupted on each attempt.

“Put him through, Kym. Thanks.”

He had already spoken to both of George’s parents – two times each – both demanding answers and having hysterics each time; to Tamsyn, who’d nearly broken his heart when she had asked tearfully “Does this mean my baby is never going to know its father?”; and to Chris’s father, who’d been backpacking somewhere in Colorado and had either had a terrible connection or been half-stoned.

This call from Lauren’s father, therefore, was both expected and at least a couple of hours overdo.

“Robert.” Ben greeted him somberly. “I imagine you’ve heard the same news reports we have. How are you and your wife holding up?”

The older man’s voice sounded hoarse, as though he’d been crying. “Not terribly well, Ben, as you might expect. Natalie is – not doing well at all. Julia and Nathan just arrived a few minutes ago, and they’re doing their best to comfort her. But I need to know everything you do at this point. Is there any chance that my little girl is still alive?”

Ben had anticipated this question, had answered it several times already this morning, and wished again that he had more reliable information to share.

“There’s a chance, yes,” he replied gravely. “Lauren and the others were on a flight from Port Blair to Chennai, and their departure was delayed by nearly half an hour. The flight also encountered some serious turbulence en route, which delayed its arrival by a few more minutes. If the flight from Port Blair had left on time, then they would have had barely thirty minutes to make the next flight from Chennai to Delhi – the flight that crashed on takeoff. Based on what we know, they would have had less than five minutes to make the connection, given that the two gates were in different terminals.”

Robert’s voice sounded a bit steadier at this news. “So it’s quite possible that they weren’t on that flight? When will we know for certain?”

That was a question Ben had been asked – and had asked himself – multiple times so far today. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Apparently, when the plane exploded on takeoff, it took out power and telephone lines, and no one’s had any luck getting much information. We have people here at the magazine in constant contact with both the FAA and the State Department trying to get updates, but until the passenger lists are released, or we hear from one of the crew, we won’t know anything definite.”

“Yes. I understand. I’ve been watching the coverage on television, what little there is, and it sounds like the crash not only disrupted the communications systems but that the debris is blocking the main highway into the city.”

“There hasn’t been a whole lot of news,” agreed Ben. “And I’m sure the priority is to tend to the victims of the crash. Plus, all incoming and outgoing flights have been grounded, which is to be expected. We haven’t even been able to reach them on the satellite phone, but I’m told that’s not unusual in these sorts of disasters, that communications can be blocked in order to give priority to emergency services. But we’ll keep trying to reach them, as well as utilize all of our contacts to get more news.”

Robert blew out a frustrated breath. “I suppose under the circumstances that’s all you can do. Except to hope. And pray.”

Ben shut his eyes again, rubbing his temple. “Believe me, Robert, I’ve been doing plenty of both since I first heard the news early this morning. We have to remain positive, have to assume that they didn’t make it onto that flight. The odds aren’t great that they did.”

“With most anyone else I’d agree,” retorted Robert. “But with Lauren – well, you’ve seen her in action. She’d think nothing of badgering a gate agent or pitching a fit until they called the plane back to the gate.”

“Even Lauren can’t control everything,” Ben assured him gently. “And given how tight security is at airports nowadays, I doubt she would have been able to pull something like that off.”

“I suppose you’re right.” There was a pause for several seconds before Robert murmured in hushed tones, “God, if something happens to my girl I don’t know what we’ll do, Ben. My wife is holding on by a thread right now.”

“I know exactly how she feels,” whispered Ben. “Lauren is – well, she’s a very special woman, isn’t she? And, well – ”

“You’re in love with my daughter,” finished Robert. “Yes, I’ve been aware of that for quite some time. And I trust that if she makes it out of this that you plan on telling her exactly how you feel. Now, please. Call us the moment you have any news. No matter the time or no matter what the news.”

Robert hung up before Ben could even start to think up a reply, and he was left staring dumbly at the receiver.

But current circumstances didn’t allow for him to spend time pondering why Robert McKinnon had sounded so sure of himself just now, why he had very matter-of-factly stated that Ben was in love with Lauren. Had Lauren in fact confided in her father, or was Robert simply making an educated guess based on what he had observed?

As the morning became afternoon and then began to approach early evening, the mood in the office began to darken along with the sky. At some point during the day, Ben’s office had become ground control, and there were always at least half a dozen people clustered around, searching for news online, trying to call the crew’s cell phones or the satellite number every few minutes. People had been bringing food in all day, and he was vaguely nauseous as he looked it all over – donuts and bagels, the remnants of a foot-long sandwich, Chinese takeout containers, half a pizza, a tray of assorted cookies and cupcakes. He hadn’t been able to eat a thing all day, just coffee and water, had no appetite whatsoever.

“Ben, you should really eat something,” chided Nadine. She was red-eyed from crying, her voice barely above a croak. She felt responsible for what had happened, deeply regretted not having booked the crew on the direct flight from Port Blair to Delhi, but Ben hadn’t been able to summon up the energy to console her much, or to continually assure her that none of this was her fault.

Needless to say, no one had been in the mood to actually work today. The staff was like a big family, after all, most of them having worked together for years. None of them wanted to go home, and while Ben appreciated their support, what he really wanted was an hour or two of privacy so that he could try and make some sense of this mess. A nap wouldn’t hurt, either, except that he was so pumped full of caffeine and anxiety at this point that he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to sleep again.

His cell phone buzzed, and he snatched it up from his desk, only to heave a little sigh when he saw Elle’s name in the caller ID. Again.

“Any news?” she asked as he picked up the call.

“Not yet, no.”

This was at least the fifth call from Elle since he had told her about the plane crash, and while he appreciated her concern, the frequent calls were a distraction he could do without at the moment. Elle had offered to bring food over, to keep him company, and he knew her feelings had been hurt each time he had gently refused. But right now he simply couldn’t worry about Elle – not when the only woman he’d ever loved might very well be dead.

Ben shook his head, trying valiantly not to let himself sink into despair. He had to stay positive, had to hold on to whatever fragile threads of hope might still exist. The very thought that someone as young and bright and beautiful as Lauren could be dead was so unbelievable that it sounded like a bad dream. Maybe that’s all this was, he mused. Except that it had been the longest nightmare he’d ever had, one that had gone on for far too long. And if it was just a bad dream, then he was desperate to wake up from it any second now – to wake up and discover that Lauren and the others were just fine, that all the worry and panic and despair had been for nothing.

And when she arrived back in New York, he wasn’t going to waste even one more hour without telling her how he felt – explaining why he had left her, telling her how much he had always regretted his actions, and how he had never once stopped loving her. He was going to do all of that and more – provided he got the chance.

It was early evening by now, and somehow all of the food had been consumed. Nadine and a few of the others went out to grab burgers and shakes, and Ben humored them by asking for a mushroom Swiss burger and a vanilla shake, even though he doubted he could eat a single bite.

He was alone for the first time since very early this morning, when he’d picked up the call from Nadine that had caused his blood to run cold. As a way to distract himself, Ben checked his email, the first actual bit of work he’d attempted all day. He clicked automatically through two dozen or more messages, deleting some, replying to a few others, forwarding the rest to Kym.

And then he spied the message that had been marked as Personal and Confidential, specially flagged so that only he would be able to open it. But it was the sender’s name that really caught his attention, and he did a quick time and date conversion to determine when it had been sent. If his calculations were correct, then Lauren had sent this email roughly three hours before her flight had left Port Blair.

His fingers were trembling as he opened the email and began to read what could very well be the final communication that Lauren had sent to anyone.

Dear Ben,

You have no idea how many times I almost deleted this email. Or how many times I’ve edited it over the past couple of weeks. I didn’t know if I would ever have the guts to actually send it, until someone told me last night that life’s too short and that I should stop wasting even one more minute of it. And I decided he was right.

So, here it is, Ben. You asked me a couple of weeks ago to send you an email about what was on my mind, and while I was pretty pissed off at you for suggesting it, I decided that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Here’s the thing. I fell in love with you six years ago, and I’ve never really stopped feeling that way. Even when you left me and broke my heart in a million pieces (you bastard), I still couldn’t stop loving you. And I know it’s probably not cool to tell you that when you’re with Elle and practically engaged and all that, but I can’t keep my feelings bottled up anymore.

Okay, there. I’ve said it. Got it off my chest. Whew! That being said, I have no idea what happens from here, no idea how you feel about me or if you’re really going to ask Elle to marry you or not. I’m pretty sure you’re still attracted to me, given what happened at my aunt’s apartment, but beyond that I don’t have a clue.

I’m telling you all this now, putting it in an email, because I don’t know if I’d have the guts to tell you face to face. I’m sorry I never let you explain before, but I was so angry and hurt when you left me, and then when you just showed up at the magazine last year I was still so mad that I swore I’d never believe anything you told me ever again. I admit that I’m stubborn and proud and that I can hold a grudge like nobody else can. But I can also admit when I’ve been wrong – difficult as that might be to believe. And while I still don’t understand why you left me six years ago, I’m finally ready to hear you out.


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