Cassie doesn’t believe in fairy tales. Sure, Gram used to tell her that bedtime story about how Cassie’s mother was stolen away by the North Wind and imprisoned by trolls. But Cassie, who lives with her scientist father at a research station in the Arctic, has every intention of following in Dad’s logical, analytical footsteps. She has no time for fantasy. And besides, as she grew older, she realized that “stolen by the North Wind” was just a euphemism for “died.”
Or was it?
On her eighteenth birthday,
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If it doesn't have a ripped shirt, is it *really* Doc Savage?
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Please contact me Scott I know who got us away and contacted social services.