Opus One - Cover

Opus One

Copyright© 2006 by Ryan Sylander

Chapter 31: Lacrimosa

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 31: Lacrimosa - Richard, a talented young pianist, sets off for the Wexford Conservatory of Music. Between lessons with his exacting teacher and fun times with two fellow musicians named Emily and Sandra, he discovers that music, friendship and love can lead to passions never imagined. Supported by a cast of characters pulled straight out of the music world, these three aspiring performers find that the life of a musician is that of extremes: formidably challenging, and exceptionally rewarding. Edited by pcb

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   School   Polygamy/Polyamory   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Petting   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Caution   Slow  

Richard shook himself out of his stupor as he saw Emily taking Sandra into her arms on the floor.

"What happened?" Emily asked repeatedly, but Sandra just stared off wildly in shock, breathing in ragged spurts. She was barely able to breathe, let alone talk.

Richard picked up the phone from the floor.

"Cosa sta succedendo?" his father asked, coming closer to Sandra.

Richard ignored him.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Who is this?" the voice asked urgently.

"This is Richard."

"Oh, Richard ... This is Sandra's mom. Is she okay?"

"She's ... in shock. What's happening? Is your husband okay?" Richard asked, fearing the worst.

"It's not Robert," she said. Her voice was punctuated with emotional pauses and sobs. "One of her childhood friends has been badly hurt."

Richard felt his throat tighten up. "Oh, no..."

He looked down and noticed Emily's stricken face frantically mouthing 'Her dad?' as she held Sandra against her.

He shook his head.

"He got trapped in a house that was on fire," her mom continued. "He's very badly burned. I am very sorry to wake up your family at this hour, but..."

"No, absolutely do not worry about that. What's his condition?"

"It's ... It's very bad."

Richard paced around the kitchen frantically.

"What's his name?"

"Billy. Billy Jackson," Sandra's mom said, her voice cracking. "Emily met him when she was here. Is she there, too?"

"Yes ... She's with Sandra..."

Richard felt like the world was spinning around. He looked down at Emily and mouthed Billy's name. Emily closed her eyes in utter despair.

Richard knew how much Sandra still cared about her childhood friend and ex-lover. Even though things were long over between them romantically, Sandra still had a place in her heart for him. He had called just before they left, to let Sandra know he was definitely coming to the recital. But now...

"Was anyone else hurt?" he asked, when he finally regained the ability to speak

Mrs. d'Arcy paused before answering. "Yes. We're still not sure what happened. The fire wasn't at his house."

"When did this happen?"

"A few hours ago. We're at the hospital. I know you are on break, and if it was anything less, I would never have called at this hour ... He ... he..."

Her mother struggled with the words.

"He asked for her," she finally managed.

"How bad is it?"

On the floor, Sandra was wailing in Emily's arms. Vittorio was looking on, his face wretched.

"As bad as it can get," Mrs. d'Arcy said. Her voice gave way.

"Can you give me a number where you are?"

There was a pause, and then she recited some digits. "Room 221."

"I will call you in a few minutes. I'm really sorry to hear this. I know how close your family must have been with Billy, after he and Sandra went out for so long ... I'm so sorry ... Let me just help Sandra for a minute. I will call you right back."

"Sandra?" her mother pleaded.

"She's very upset ... I don't think she can talk right now."

"Please take care of her?"

"I will, Mrs. d'Arcy. I promise."

Richard hung up and looked at the girls. Sandra was still crying uncontrollably.

He considered telling Emily what was going on, but with Sandra in her state, he balked. He could do nothing for her beyond what Emily was already doing, so he turned to his father.

"What happened?" Vittorio asked, in Italian. Richard glanced at Sandra and then pulled his dad into his room.

"A friend of hers from her town was burned in a fire. He's close to death."

Vittorio closed his eyes. "Dio... "

Richard changed into pants, and then quickly started throwing clothes into his bag. "We're leaving now."

"Right now?"

"He asked for her. Maybe we can get there, before..."

Vittorio nodded, and then hesitated. "But does she want to go? Flames do not pardon..."

Richard stopped packing for a moment. Does she? Does she want to see him this way? He squashed the images that presented themselves to him before he felt too ill.

"At the very least, she can be with her family, and that of her friend," Richard finally said. "Then she can choose what to do."

"Are you sure you will leave now? At least sleep for a few hours."

Richard shook his head. "There will be no sleep tonight, no matter what happens."

Vittorio nodded. "Can I help?"

"Make me an espresso. Make three," Richard corrected, "and put them all in one mug. But wait until I have the girls in the car, or it will be too noisy."

Richard handed him his packed bag, and the car keys. Vittorio nodded, not needing more instruction.

Richard returned to the kitchen as his dad continued outside. He knelt down and took Sandra from Emily, cradling her in his arms.

"He asked for you," he said gently.

Sandra grew even more anguished.

"Do you want to go see him?"

For a long time, Sandra didn't give an indication through her crying. Then Richard caught the nod.

He looked at Emily. "Billy was hurt in a fire, and he's in the hospital. Can you get ready, and then find something for Sandra to wear? She can change later. We're leaving now."

Emily looked at him wide-eyed, and then stood and ran to their room. Soon she returned with their bags and her horn. Richard stood, picking Sandra up. Vittorio waited by the front door, and held it open as they approached.

Richard carried Sandra outside to the car, with Emily following. Emily threw the bags into the front seat that Vittorio held open, stashed her horn in the trunk, and then sat in the back. Richard gently maneuvered Sandra into the seat next to her, and Emily soon had her cradled in her lap.

Richard heard the coffee grinder spring to life through the screen door.

"I'll be out in a couple of minutes. Just hold on," he said.

Richard's mother was in the kitchen, and Vittorio was relating the news to her. Richard gave her a brief hug as he grabbed the phone and dialed the hospital.

A man answered this time.

"Hi, I'm a friend of Sandra's," Richard said. "I'm trying to get Sandra there, and need to know where to go."

A second man took the phone.

Fortunately, he was in much better shape than Sandra's mom had been, and he quickly gave the directions Richard needed.

"Where's the map?" he whispered to his mom, as he wrote down the last bits of information.

"All right, thanks. Please tell Sandra's mom that we are leaving for there right now."

As Richard hung up, Angelina opened a drawer and pulled out a map of the northeast. He spread it out on the table and jotted down the interstates he needed to take, until he dovetailed with the directions the man had provided. He fingered the scale and then measured off the route, wincing as he reached the end. Over five hundred and fifty miles...

For a moment he wondered if he was crazy. The clock read twelve fifty-three.

Vittorio handed Richard a mug of concentrated caffeine, and sighed.

"Just be careful," he said. "It's not worth rushing over, if it will result in another accident."

Richard nodded soberly, and then hugged his parents.

"Tell the girls goodbye," Angelina said, patting his cheek.

"I will. Sorry we won't eat breakfast."

Vittorio nodded respectfully, and then pushed Richard towards the door. "Forza, Riccardo, forza."

With a last wave, Richard pulled out of the driveway and gunned the car down the empty streets of his neighborhood. After a few minutes, he was on interstate ninety-five, and then crossing the Washington Bridge.

In the back, Sandra had quieted, although she was still quite shaken. Emily caressed her hair as she continued to lie on her lap.

"Is it really bad?" Sandra asked, her voice unrecognizable.

Richard looked in the rear view mirror at Emily. Their eyes met for an instant, and then he looked back at the road.

"Yeah."

"He's going to die, isn't he?"

"Your mom didn't say that," Richard said quietly, hoping she took his words at face value.

"I can't believe this is happening. Not right now. Not with everything going on."

Emily gently shushed her as she seemed to grow agitated again.

"Just rest, Sandra. Billy will need you to be strong for him, when we get there."

As the northern part of New Jersey began to fly by, Sandra just stared at the back of the seat.


Richard glanced down at the Styrofoam cup beside him. The coffee was long gone. He should have gotten a second cup at the fuel stop, he realized, since he was starting to feel the first hints of exhaustion creeping into his eyes. Then again, he wondered if the foul brew even had any caffeine in it.

"How are you?" Emily asked, waking up in the back.

"I'm hanging in there."

"I don't mind driving."

"I know. I'll be all right."

"Sandra's still asleep."

"Good. She can't do anything in the car, so she might as well."

"Are we planning on staying there tonight?"

Richard shrugged. "I don't know. If the worst happens, then Sandra will probably stay a few days for the funeral, I guess. If not, she might also stay, to be with him for a while. God, this is terrible..."

"I know. He's a good guy. He's kind of quiet, in that Midwestern kind of way. Or maybe he was just taken with Sandra when we were down visiting. I don't know."

"Poor guy. Argh, I feel like crap. What a horrible thing to have happen."

"How much longer?"

"Another hour, or less."

Richard kept his eyes on the road, scanning for police cars. The morning sun was already illuminating the land around them as it flashed by.

Romeo and Juliet seems like it had happened a month ago...

Sandra stirred suddenly.

"We're almost there," Emily said, resuming her caresses.

"Did I sleep?" she asked wearily.

"Yes."

"I was hoping it was all a bad dream."

"I wish it was too," Emily said softly.


Richard was on his last ounce of energy when he stopped the car in front of the hospital doors. Emily got out with Sandra, and they went inside while Richard drove the car to the parking lot.

His eyes were starting to dart around involuntarily. He had been moments from pulling over to let Emily drive, but then the exit came, and the change of pace from the interstate to the rural highway had given him some minutes of new life.

He looked at his watch. It was almost seven thirty. He found it hard to believe he had been at his house less than seven hours ago.

Despite the tremendous temptation to pass out where he sat, Richard got out and went into the hospital. After signing in and taking the elevator up one floor, he ran into Emily, who was waiting for the elevator herself.

"What's happening?" he asked wearily.

"He's still alive. I was just coming to find you."

Richard let out a sigh of relief. At least the trip hadn't been in vain. It didn't make the situation any better, but at least Sandra could be involved in whatever unfolded next.

"Where's Sandra?"

"She's with her mom."

Emily stopped walking as they entered a somewhat full waiting area.

"Okay. We should wait out here, huh?"

"Yeah. The room's right down there," Emily said, pointing.

Richard saw Sandra talking to her mom, as several other people stood by.

"Robert told me that we really don't want to go in there."

Richard nodded, feeling his body recoil slightly.

"Whatever happens, let's just be strong for her," Richard said.

Emily nodded. "I'll do my best. I know what she's going through," she said distantly.


"You don't have to go in there, Sandrine."

Sandra turned her sad eyes to her mother. "I do. You said he called for me. I have to go."

The pain in her mother's eyes was touched with fear.

"It's bad," she said for the third time, making sure Sandra understood.

Sandra squeezed her mother's hand, and then reached for the door handle.

She took a deep breath, and then opened the door and went in, steeling herself for what she was about to see.

It was far worse than she had even imagined.


Yolande was crying softly as Robert held her. My poor Sandrine...

The door opened a few minutes after Sandra went in, and Kyle limped out of the room, his face twisted and red with despair.

He stumbled, and his father reached over to support him.

"It's all right, son," Tim said, as he pulled Kyle into a hug. "Billy's a strong one. He's gonna pull through."

Kyle just stared off past his dad's shoulder.

There was sudden rush as a few nurses ran past them and went into the room next to Billy's. Yolande fought off the wail in her throat as she heard orders shouted out before the door closed and shut off the horrible scene within.

It was only a matter of time now, before Billy would follow Kelly into that gentler world. I just wish Sandrine didn't have to see it...


"Emily?"

She looked up at a familiar man standing before her.

"You're Kyle's dad."

"Yeah. I'm Tim."

Emily stood up, hugging him. "This is my friend, Richard."

Richard shook hands with him, nodding his head somberly.

"Kyle knows you're here. He told me to come say hello. He needs to be with Billy, now," Tim explained.

"Of course," Emily said. "We got here as soon as we could. Richard drove all night, nonstop, as soon as we heard."

"You done a good thing, son. We always still think of Sandra whenever we think of Billy. Even after they split up. It's only fitting that she be here when he goes."

Emily's face saddened. "It's close then?"

"Yeah. Those of us who could stand it just went in to say goodbye. I ain't no doctor, but I know the end when I see it." Tim shook his head. "He's just with his dad, and Sandra and Kyle now. They was the people who meant the most to him."

"Is he awake? Does he know they're with him?"

Tim looked at her. "He knows."

"How did this happen?"

Tim shook his head. "Some kind of fire at the Carney's house. Kyle and Billy was driving home from shooting some pool, and they saw the flames jumping up from the attic. They ran into the house, waking up Jim and Barb ... Kyle ... he, uh, found one of the kids, and Billy grabbed another. Got them out, and then the boys followed Jim back in to find ... find little Kelly. Oh god, bless her soul... !"

Tim broke down. Emily hugged him tightly, tears running down her cheeks.

At last Tim composed himself some.

"They didn't come out. Fire trucks got there, and they found Jim and Kyle trying to clear out the doorway, but Billy was trapped. The attic caved in on him when he was getting Kelly from her crib."

Emily had a hand to her mouth. Richard felt ill.

"What happened to her?" Emily whispered.

Tim shook his head, his face miserable. He was unable to speak.

Emily broke down into sobs.

Someone came running from the direction of Billy's room.

"Tim..."

Tim gave Emily a last stricken look, and then hurried away. Emily watched through watery eyes as Kyle staggered out of the room and fell into his dad's arms. They seemed to struggle, as Kyle convulsed in agony. As Tim became overwhelmed, Sandra's dad stepped in to try and help. All around, people were crying as they watched helplessly while the three men thrashed about.

Emily closed her eyes, unable to take anymore. She felt Richard's arms wrap around her, just before things went black.


Sometime that evening, as the sun began to consider setting, Richard found himself sitting quietly outside of the d'Arcy home. An earlier nap had done little good; he was still exhausted.

Sandra would be staying a few more days for the funeral. He and Emily had accepted the offer to stay one night before leaving for Wexford, even though it meant missing a day of classes. There was no choice, however. Driving now would have meant certain disaster.

The mood inside the house was expectedly somber as people from the town came all afternoon to offer condolences. Richard had felt out of place, not knowing anyone except Emily and Sandra. Now, Emily was out walking with Kyle, and Sandra was sitting with Billy's father and the Carney family in the living room.

He was listening to the gusty breeze blowing over the wide fields of Sandra's farm, when another sound seemed to come out of the wind. It was like a distant, mournful horn, at first. Then Richard heard the movement of a slow melody emerge from the droning sound.

The wind ebbed and flowed, seemingly trying to lift the despondent but beautiful melody.

Richard sat up, straining to listen. It seemed as if the wind was carrying the sound in from miles away.

It's Sandra, he suddenly realized.

The wind at last slackened some, and Richard could more clearly hear the fiddle through the open windows of the house.

There was nothing fancy or technical about the playing. It remained a simple melody, sounded over a droned string.

But how it moved Richard! He was riveted to the chair, as Sandra's emotions filled the melody through three repetitions.

As quietly as it began, the music ended. The wind, sensing that the moment was over, blew strong again and swept the sound of the fading drone away over the fields.

Richard slumped back down in his chair, deeply haunted by the sound.


Emily was beside Kyle as they walked out along a dirt drive that led between the fields. After asking her if she would accompany him on a walk, he had been silent. His red, stricken eyes scanned the farm, as if seeing Billy and himself playing here and there in their younger days.

After some time, they approached an area of trees, and soon Emily heard the gentle sound of running water. Kyle led her to the bank, and looked out over the stream that ran through the grove.

"We grew up here," he said quietly. "When we weren't working on the farm, or in school, we were down here."

He pointed. Emily saw an old tire sticking out of the water, with the tattered remains of a rope still attached around it. The other end, long since severed, hung down a few feet from an overhanging tree limb.

"The old tire. We'd swing out over the water and jump in to that deep pool."

Kyle breathed in deeply, and then closed his eyes. "Billy, Sandra, Annabelle, and me ... We grew up here."

"It's very peaceful."

"It is, now. It could be noisy, too, when we played. It was whatever we made it."

"You knew Billy his whole life?"

"Yeah. The four of us were all born and raised here in this town. When you saw one of us, the other three weren't far behind."

He looked around again. "Even when we were in high school, we still would come here. We'd swim, lie in the sun ... Billy got too heavy for the tire, and snapped the rope one day. That was the end of that..." Kyle sniffed. "Sometimes Billy snuck a bottle from his old man's cabinet, even."

Kyle walked up the bank and Emily followed him over to a fallen tree. He kicked the log aside, revealing the top of a liquor bottle sticking out from the rotten wood beneath.

"Still here, a year later."

He pulled on the top. It gave way easily, since most of the bottle was no longer there. He looked wistfully at the broken edge of glass, and then tossed it back into the dirt, carefully replacing the log to cover it.

"We still came here when he and Sandra were going together. I was with Annabelle, and you know, it was the same as when we were kids. Nothing was really different. We were just kissing a little more often."

"Where is Annabelle?"

"She went out west. She was a smart girl, and got into Stanford, if you can believe that. She's flying back tomorrow, so she can be here for the funeral."

"We probably won't meet her. We're leaving tomorrow," Emily said apologetically.

"I know. But I am glad that you came. I still think about that weekend you came down with Sandra in November."

Emily smiled at him. "It was a good time."

Kyle walked back toward the brook, and sat on the grassy slope. Emily sat right next to him, and they stared at the peaceful scene for a time.

She imagined a young Sandra frolicking around in the water, teasing Billy. She knew Sandra had been much more shy in certain ways before arriving at Wexford, but she imagined she still would have been the center of attention.

"I had something I was going to show you when I came up to see you play in a few weeks," Kyle said.

"You can still come."

He sighed sadly. "It wouldn't be the same ... you know, without..." He squeezed his eyes tight.

"I know, Kyle. A lot of things won't be the same. Your life is changed, forever. Eventually, you'll realize that that's the endless truth..."

He looked at her. "You've lost a good friend, too."

"Yeah."

Kyle nodded, understanding.

"It's the worst," Emily murmured.

He started to cry quietly. Emily put her arm around his shoulder, and leaned against him.

The brook continued to mark the passage of time with its endless flow.

"It should have been me, Emily."

"You?"

"Yeah. In that house. We went back in, after we got two of the kids out ... and when we got to the hallway..." Kyle swallowed hard. "I hesitated. I knew we were right under the fire. You could feel it, and see it. But Billy ... Billy ... He went in. He didn't think about it. Didn't ask no questions."

Kyle broke down again, as Emily hugged him tight.

"I was scared, Emily. That ceiling ... it looked like the mouth of hell. I froze..."

"You saved one of the kids, Kyle. You did everything you could."

"No, Billy did everything he could ... Jim and me were right behind him, once he led the way ... But it was him, in the end, that went in first. It should have been me."

The breeze suddenly picked up, and Emily felt a chill.

"But it wasn't you, Kyle. Things just happen the way they do, for reasons we don't know."

"It's not right, though! Billy was going somewhere ... He was smart, too, you know. The three of them, they were all sharp, in their own ways. They all went off to college. I stayed to work with my dad at the farm, while they went off. And now, Billy's not coming back. He had a new lady friend at school. And Billy's old man ... He already lost his wife when Billy was just a little kid. And now his only son..."

Kyle turned to her, his tears flowing. "I just got my folks here, Emily, and they're getting old. That's it. Billy was my best friend. It was still like old times, when he came back for breaks. But now ... he's gone." Kyle's voice cracked. "My friend is gone."

"Kyle..."

"Why him? Why not me?"

Kyle crumpled up, and Emily cradled him as he shook.

She cried too, knowing his feelings as if they were her own.


Richard was still in his chair when Sandra' s dad came out of the house with Tim. They were talking quietly, and spotted Richard as they headed towards Tim's car.

"Richard, how are you holding up?" Robert asked.

Richard shrugged and shook his head. "I'm ... holding up. Don't worry about me," he said, deflecting the attention away from him.

"I appreciate your effort, driving last night so Sandra could be here."

Richard nodded. "It's the least I could do. I feel somewhat helpless now."

Robert nodded, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "We all do ... Tim and I are going to go down to the Carney's place and get some of their things. Jim needs his medicine, and there are some other things they've asked for. Do you want to come with us?"

"I'm afraid it won't be a nice trip," Tim added.

Richard stood, grateful for the chance to do something, even if it was a morbid task.

"Will you stay for the funeral?" Tim asked, as they drove to the burnt house.

"No, we need to leave tomorrow. As much as we want to be here for Sandra, we have to go back to our lessons and classes. We'll leave in the morning, since we have to return the rental car and everything."

"I know it's a busy time of the semester," Robert said. "I will drive Sandra up on Wednesday. I hope she won't miss so much that it causes her trouble."

"She will be okay in her classes. I'll let her teachers know what is going on."

"She will appreciate that. We are very much looking forward to the recital, Yolande and I."

"Good ... I know Billy was too..." Richard said quietly.

"That he was," Tim agreed sadly.

"He'll be there in spirit, I know," Robert said.

The house was frightening to look at. Richard found himself feeling extremely uneasy as the three of them entered and quickly gathered the things that had been requested. The smell of smoke hung heavily in the rooms. When they passed a taped off and blackened section of the hallway, Richard fought not to look. That direction was where the worst had happened.

If Robert and Tim were uneasy, they didn't show it.

Ten minutes later, Richard was glad to be out of the house and driving away. In the darkening evening light, the inside of the house had an awful, surreal feeling to it. All the signs of a house having been lived in were there: dishes drying in the sink, children's toys on the floor of the family room, some unopened mail on the counter...

In the gloom, it all had a mortal pall.


Richard and Emily were sitting on the floor of Sandra's room when she came in that evening. They all hugged each other tightly.

Sandra was clearly exhausted from the difficult day, so Richard and Emily helped her get ready for bed, and then caressed her head once she was under her sheets.

"I can't believe he's gone," she said quietly.

"I know," Emily said.

"It just reminds us that we need to live life today. You never know when your last hour will come."

Richard squeezed her hand.

"Do you want us to stay until Wednesday?"

"No," Sandra said. "You need to get back. I'll be okay. I have my parents here to help."

"Okay," Emily said. "We'll be thinking of you."

"I'll be thinking of you, too," Sandra said. "I love you both. Thank you for staying today. Even though we didn't spend much time together, it was comforting seeing you around, and getting your hugs."

"We love you too," Richard said, and then he and Emily kissed her forehead.

Soon Sandra's breathing turned heavy, and Richard and Emily let her sleep.

"Sounds like she's hanging in there," Richard said, as they settled into their cots.

"For now. It can take time to grieve, though."

He nodded. "I know. Well, I don't know, but I can imagine."

He gave Emily a kiss.

"Try and sleep, Em. Tomorrow will be a long day."


Richard dumped their bags down onto the white rug, and sighed wearily. He watched as Emily put her horn in the corner, and then breathed deeply as she fell into his arms.

"She'll be all right," he murmured.

"Yes, she will. I hope she finds some closure at the funeral tomorrow."

"I don't know about you, but I'm about to pass out."

"Me too," Emily agreed. "I know Sandra's bed is free, but could you still sleep in my bed?"

"Of course, Em ... I'll go get ready."

The day had been extremely long. It was hard to leave Sandra that morning. The drive had felt like a weeklong journey. Adding to the misery was the need to drop the rental car off downtown and then fight their way to Wexford by taking the train and walking with their bags and Emily's horn.

Once in bed, Richard held Emily tightly as she cried.

"It's so weird, being back at school without her," she said.

"I know. It's like there's a huge hole in the room."

"I wish we could have stayed with her. But I know we had to get back."

"Sandra has an excuse to be away for three days, but I don't think that would fly with our teachers all that well."

"No, I know. We did what we could, anyway."

"We did. Are we going to history class at eight?" Richard asked.

"Don't set the alarm. If we get up, then fine."

"Okay. I doubt I'll be rousing, then."

"We won't be missed there."

"You're right."

"I love you, Richard."

"I love you too, Em. Let's try and rest up these next two days, so we can be strong for Sandra when she comes back."

Emily nodded, and wiped at her cheek.

"Yeah, she'll need us."


The next morning, they were not even close to rising on time for the early class. Emily also missed her ten o'clock theory class. Finally hunger forced them to get out of bed and go to eat lunch.

"How did you sleep?" Emily asked.

"Not very well," Richard admitted.

She nodded knowingly. The funeral had probably just started.

There was nothing else to say.

An hour later, Richard walked into theory class, not wanting to be there at all. He had promised Sandra he would tell all her teachers what was happening. While he didn't expect Dr. Dobra to have any problem with her situation, he was not looking forward to having to explain it. Even as he thought of it, he felt his chest tighten.

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