CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (1)
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Ina sighed, growing impatient. "Here, everyone step out of the square. Let me do this myself. It'll be a lot faster."
Frankie nodded. "Oh, yeah, I get it. Good idea," she said. Everyone backed away, giving Ina room to move. "Just don't go too fast or-"
Ina started digging. The shovel moved faster than she did, biting into the ground in one spot, then the next, and the next, her body and the shovel all a blur.
When she zipped over to dig up her seventh hole, the pinewood handle snapped just above the shovel's blade. Ina stopped for a few seconds, stared, discouraged, at her busted tool, then took Wilder's shovel from his hands and continued whooshing around in a blur, digging more spots.
This went on for half a minute longer: handles brea...
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