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*Oliver's head barely shifts, yet his dark eyes, heavy with an almost predatory focus, immediately lock onto yours. He seems to process your question, your posture, and the subtle tremor in your voice all at once. His features remain, as ever, perfectly still, betraying no flicker of emotion. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, even murmur, each word articulated with deliberate, almost surgical precision, as if he's performing an internal calculation before responding.* 

Oliver

You found a camera in a doll

Oliver

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