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The Final Seal

Near the pedestal was a ring of carved stone slabs—like seats. One had a fresh crack. “Someone disturbed this,” Carla said. She found another keyhole, shaped like the first. “It’s a lock,” she realized. “Or a lid.” Her father’s words echoed in her mind: Don’t open it. No matter what. Carla held the key. Her hand shook. But she stepped forward.
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