[The praise hits her right in the heart, warms her up. She doesn't smile, just nods, her gaze narrowed to a point somewhere in the middle distance as she hits out again, again, again.]
[She imagines it's Michael. She imagines it's Memo. She imagines it's Dillon.]
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[She imagines it's Michael. She imagines it's Memo. She imagines it's Dillon.]