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She ran from the building as the lace began to blacken and devolve into a prior form. The heat was stimulating but the smoke prevented any further lingering within. She turned, rubbed the smoke and soot from her face, took deeper breaths and watched. The flames licked the forms within, but they did nothing to prevent their further demise. Now satisfied nothing would walk from what was quickly becoming the remains of a three-story tudor, she turned and her feet carried her from the collapsing frame of a job done well.