My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

Chapter 378: Chapter 378 A SMALL VICTORY

SERAPHINA’S POV

As I withdrew from Celeste’s mind, the weight of the physical world returned slowly, like gravity settling back onto my bones.

For a brief second, the room tilted around me.

Not violently. Not the crushing collapse that had followed the last time I’d forced my way into her memories.

Just a slight dizziness, like surfacing from deep water.

Kieran’s hand immediately tightened at my waist.

“Sera.” His voice was low, sharp with concern.

I steadied myself and drew a quiet breath. The cold stone walls of the Frostbane guest chamber came back into focus.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

And I was. Maybe Celeste hadn’t resisted as hard as last time. Or maybe I’d grown stronger since the markings appeared on me.

Either way, I was still standing.

That alone felt like a small victory.

“Well?” Ethan asked, his voice heavy. “Did you see anything?”

I exhaled slowly, shaking my head. “Everything concerning Catherine is…sealed.”

I’d felt the barriers clearly—precise psychic seals woven through Celeste’s memoryscape like locked gates—but instead of forcing them open, I had pulled back.

If someone had deliberately constructed those blocks, tearing through them recklessly could have destroyed the memories entirely.

It could have triggered something far more dangerous.

Corin straightened. “Sealed how?”

“Deliberately. Clean work. Precise.”

“Like Aaron?” Kieran asked.

I shook my head. “No. All her memories still exist, but these have a lock of some kind on them.”

That was what disturbed me most.

It hadn’t felt like trauma.

It hadn’t felt like natural suppression.

It felt…designed.

Celeste had been watching my face the entire time.

“Well,” she drawled, stretching her bound wrists lazily against the cuffs, “that’s disappointing.”

She tilted her head, studying me like an insect pinned to glass.

“What happened, Sera?” she continued, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “I thought you were the terrifying new psychic prodigy.”

Her smile widened. “Turns out you’re not quite as all-powerful as you think.”

Maya’s voice snapped from behind me. “Oh, shut up!”

I hadn’t even realized she’d entered the room until that moment. She must have arrived while I was inside Celeste’s mind.

She stood next to Ethan, fists clenched so tightly the tendons in her hands stood out sharply beneath her skin, her eyes blazing as she stared at Celeste.

Behind her, Brett and Maris had also stepped into the room. Brett stood slightly to the side of the doorway, his posture rigid, his expression carefully controlled in that distant way it seemed he had reserved for Celeste.

Maris remained close beside him, one hand resting lightly against his arm as her sharp gaze swept across the room before settling on Celeste with unmistakable contempt.

Celeste’s smirk deepened.

“Aw,” she said sweetly. “If it isn’t my favorite audience.”

Maya took a step forward. “If you say one more word—”

Celeste laughed softly.

“What? You’ll hit me?” She lifted her cuffed wrists mockingly. “That would really prove what noble people you all are.”

Her gaze slid lazily across the room again.

“You know,” she added with a slow shrug, “if you actually want answers, maybe it’s time you all start showing a little good faith.”

Ethan’s jaw hardened.

Celeste looked back at me.

“After all,” she said with exaggerated innocence, “you’re in desperate need of my cooperation. Come on, brownnose a little. I won’t object if you feel like falling to your knees. ”

Maya moved.

I caught her wrist before she reached the bed. Her body vibrated with restrained violence.

“Maya, she’s baiting you,” I said quietly.

“I know,” Maya snapped. “I just don’t care.”

Celeste chuckled under her breath, the sound sharp and dismissive.

For a moment, I watched her—the set of her posture, the tilt of her chin, the brittle arrogance she wore like armor against the entire room.

“Celeste,” I called out, my voice soft.

Her eyes flicked back to mine.

“Do you think the person you’ve become honors the sacrifices Kharis and Olivia made for you?”

***

CELESTE’S POV

When Sera said Olivia’s name, a chill shot through me, like ice pouring into my veins.

For a second, my chest clenched, and I couldn’t draw a breath, panic closing in like a vise.

My fingers tightened instinctively against the leather cuffs around my wrists, the metal ring behind the bedframe giving a faint clink as the restraints pulled taut.

Olivia.

That name should not exist in this room.

No one here should know it.

My eyes snapped toward Sera.

She stood a few feet from the bed, watching me with the same calm, unreadable expression as after leaving my mind.

There was no triumph on her face. No smugness.

Just quiet certainty.

Which made it worse.

“Don’t,” I said sharply.

My voice sounded wrong to my own ears—tight, brittle, panicked.

Sera didn’t stop.

“Kharis gave up her life for you,” she said quietly. “And Olivia—”

“Shut up!” The words exploded out of me.

My chest rose and fell too quickly now, air scraping through my throat as if it were suddenly too thin.

For the first time since they dragged me into this miserable stone prison, I felt something dangerously close to real fear.

Because if Sera knew about Olivia—

The world seemed to tilt as images surged through my mind, sharp and relentless.

Cold concrete scraping against my knees.

Chains rattling against the metal floor of the truck.

Girls huddled together in the darkness, collars around their throats and fear hollowing out their eyes.

Olivia’s face as she pressed the broken shard of metal into my hand.

Her fingers gripping my wrist with desperate urgency.

‘When I say run, you don’t stop. Don’t look back.’

The scream of the alarms.

Gunfire echoing through the corridors.

And Olivia’s body jerking as the shot rang out.

“She was yet another person who cared for you and got hurt,” Sera went on.

“STOP!”

The scream tore out of me before I could stop it, echoing sharply through the room and snapping every head toward me at once.

Maya looked startled by the sudden outburst, Kieran’s brows drew together in confusion, and Ethan’s expression darkened with immediate suspicion.

But none of them mattered.

The only person I could see was Brett.

He stood with his new mate near the door, half-shadowed by dim hallway light. The moment my gaze landed on him, my stomach dropped as if the bed had vanished beneath me.

No.

No, no, no.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Humiliation hit with such force that my vision blurred. If he heard—if he understood what Sera implied, what she saw—

My throat tightened so violently I could barely breathe.

“How much did you see?” I demanded hoarsely.

Sera’s smile was soft and pitying. “Enough.”

Rage and panic twisted together in my chest.

“You had no right,” I spat. “You had no right to go digging through that.”

Her silence only made it worse.

My hands shook against the cuffs.

“Everyone out,” I commanded.

No one moved.

My temper snapped.

“I said OUT!”

The words echoed off the stone walls.

“I’m not saying another word while half the world is standing here listening!”

Ethan frowned. “You don’t get to make demands—”

“I will say NOTHING if they stay!” I shouted, my voice cracking.

My eyes flicked helplessly toward Brett again.

Gods.

The look on his face made something twist painfully in my chest.

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t shocked or even particularly interested.

Brett simply stood there watching me with a cool, detached expression, as if observing something that had nothing to do with him.

And somehow, that indifference made the shame ten times worse.

For a moment, the room remained frozen.

Then Sera spoke. “Everyone out.”

Maya immediately objected.

“Sera—”

“Please.”

There was something in Sera’s voice that made the others hesitate.

Reluctantly, Maya turned and walked toward the door.

Corin followed.

Kieran lingered for a second before leaving as well.

Brett was the last to go.

As he stepped through the doorway, our eyes met briefly.

Then the door shut.

Now only three of us remained.

Sera. Ethan. And me.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

I stared at the stone ceiling, trying to slow the frantic pounding of my heart.

Then a broken laugh slipped out of my throat.

“Fuck it,” I muttered bitterly. “You want the truth? Here’s the truth.”

老

盧

擄

㽆䄆㚾㤙䝾㚾䄆㷒䄆

䲛㑸㙾

蘆盧露䝾䕉䊙虜盧 擄䰦䯓䎣㣫 㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹露 䳳 㕇䊙㮁䊙㮁㷷䊙㕇䊙㜋 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䊙䉔䊙㕇㧫㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 㝌䊙䰦䰦 䯓䑝䯓㕇㣫 䌳䯓䎣 㣫䕉䊙 䎣䇤㖨㿽㜋 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䊙 䊙䰦䊙䉔䯓㣫䇤㕇 㜋䇤䇤㕇䎣 䎣䰦䩌㜋䩌㿽䇹 䎣䕉㖨㣫㢊

㓴㕇䊙㣫㣫 䕉䯓㜋 䌳䯓䰦㹰䊙㜋 䯓䌳䯓㧫 䌳䩌㣫䕉䇤㖨㣫 䰦䇤䇤㹰䩌㿽䇹 㷷䯓䓄㹰䐃 䰦䊙䯓䉔䩌㿽䇹 㮁䊙 䎣㣫䯓㿽㜋䩌㿽䇹 䩌㿽 㣫䕉䊙 䕉䯓䰦䰦䌳䯓㧫 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䊙 㙾䊙䎣䑝䊙㕇 䐋㕇䯓㿽㜋 䱩䇤㣫䊙䰦 䌳䩌㣫䕉 㮁䇤㕇䊙 䂈㖨䊙䎣㣫䩌䇤㿽䎣 㣫䕉䯓㿽 䯓㿽䎣䌳䊙㕇䎣 䯓㿽㜋 㮁㧫 䑝㕇䩌㜋䊙 㷷㖨㕇㿽䩌㿽䇹 䰦䩌㹰䊙 䯓䓄䩌㜋 䩌㿽 㮁㧫 䓄䕉䊙䎣㣫㢊

㣫䇤㖨䌳䕉䩌㣫

䩌䕉㮁

䳳

䕉䓄㜋䯓䊙䎣

㝌䯓㣫㕇䊙

㢊㿽䩌䇹䕉䩌㿽㣫㹰

䳳 㿽䊙䉔䊙㕇 㕇䊙䯓䓄䕉䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䊙䰦䊙䉔䯓㣫䇤㕇㢊

㶳 䕉䯓㿽㜋 䓄䰦䯓㮁䑝䊙㜋 䇤䉔䊙㕇 㮁㧫 㮁䇤㖨㣫䕉 㝌㕇䇤㮁 㷷䊙䕉䩌㿽㜋㢊 㶳㿽䇤㣫䕉䊙㕇 䯓㕇㮁 䌳㕇䯓䑝䑝䊙㜋 䯓㕇䇤㖨㿽㜋 㮁㧫 䌳䯓䩌䎣㣫䐃 㜋㕇䯓䇹䇹䩌㿽䇹 㮁䊙 㷷䯓䓄㹰䌳䯓㕇㜋 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䳳 䓄䇤㖨䰦㜋 䊙䉔䊙㿽 䎣䓄㕇䊙䯓㮁㢊

䉔䩌䇤䰦䰦䊙㧫㿽㣫

䩌㣫㿽䇤

㿽㜋䯓

㿽䯓㜋

㚾䇤䕉㮁㿽䇹㣫䩌䊙

㕇䊙䊙㜋䎣䑝䎣

㜋䯓㕇㹰㿽䊙䎣䎣

䇤㣫䓄䕉䰦

㣫䩌䯓䇹㿽䯓䎣

㧫㮁

䎣㕇䑝䕉䯓

䯓䎣

䰦㕇㜋䇤䌳

䓄䐃㝌䊙䯓

䇤䎣㹰㜋䊙䯓

㣫㣫㜋䩌䊙䰦

䕉㣫䊙

㜋䎣䊙䕉㕇㖨

㢊䩌㿽

䓄䕉䊙䰦䓄䩌䯓㮁

㣫䕉䊙

㑛䕉䊙㿽 䳳 䌳䇤㹰䊙 䯓䇹䯓䩌㿽䐃 䳳 䌳䯓䎣 䩌㿽 䓄䕉䯓䩌㿽䎣㢊

㶳㣫 㝌䩌㕇䎣㣫䐃 䳳 㣫䕉䇤㖨䇹䕉㣫 䳳 䌳䯓䎣 䎣㣫䩌䰦䰦 㜋㕇䊙䯓㮁䩌㿽䇹㢊 䘷㧫 䕉䊙䯓㜋 㣫䕉㕇䇤㷷㷷䊙㜋 䌳䩌㣫䕉 䯓 㜋㖨䰦䰦䐃 㕇䊙䰦䊙㿽㣫䰦䊙䎣䎣 䑝䯓䩌㿽㢊 䄆䉔䊙㕇㧫 䑝䯓㕇㣫 䇤㝌 㮁㧫 㷷䇤㜋㧫 㝌䊙䰦㣫 䕉䊙䯓䉔㧫 䯓㿽㜋 䎣䰦㖨䇹䇹䩌䎣䕉䐃 䯓䎣 㣫䕉䇤㖨䇹䕉 䳳 䕉䯓㜋 㷷䊙䊙㿽 䎣㖨㷷㮁䊙㕇䇹䊙㜋 㖨㿽㜋䊙㕇䌳䯓㣫䊙㕇 㝌䇤㕇 䕉䇤㖨㕇䎣㢊

䕉䎣䊙㮁䇹㿽䩌㣫䇤

㜋㿽䯓

䯓䎣䌳䐃䊙㣫

㿽㖨䊙㕇䓄䕉㜋

㖨䐃㣫㕇䎣

䇤䰦䐃䩌

䊙䕉䝾

䯓䩌㕇

䰦䰦㮁䊙䎣䊙㜋

䇤㝌

䇤䎣㖨㕇

䕉㢊䎣㮁㣫䇤䯓䓄

㧫㮁

䯓㣫㣫䕉

䳳㣫 㣫䇤䇤㹰 䎣䊙䉔䊙㕇䯓䰦 䰦䇤㿽䇹 䎣䊙䓄䇤㿽㜋䎣 㝌䇤㕇 㣫䕉䊙 㕇䊙䯓䰦䩌㣫㧫 㣫䇤 䎣䊙㣫㣫䰦䊙 䩌㿽㢊

䳳 䌳䯓䎣 䎣䩌㣫㣫䩌㿽䇹 䇤㿽 㣫䕉䊙 㮁䊙㣫䯓䰦 㝌䰦䇤䇤㕇 䇤㝌 䯓 㮁䇤䉔䩌㿽䇹 㣫㕇㖨䓄㹰㢊

䯓䕉䉔䊙㧫

䇹䯓㣫䯓㿽䩌䎣

㣫䇤

㣫䕉䯓㣫㢊䇤㕇

䊙㣫䕉

䕉䌳䊙䇹䊙㜋䩌

㜋㿽䯓

㧫㮁

㕇䯓䰦䇤䰦䓄

䎣㕇䎣䩌㣫䌳

㧫㮁

䯓

㿽䎣㽆䩌䯓䕉

䇤㜋㿽㷷㖨

䰦䐃㝌㕇䇤䇤

㶳㕇䇤㖨㿽㜋 㮁䊙 䌳䊙㕇䊙 䇤㣫䕉䊙㕇 䇹䩌㕇䰦䎣—䎣䇤㮁䊙 䓄㕇㧫䩌㿽䇹 䂈㖨䩌䊙㣫䰦㧫䐃 䎣䇤㮁䊙 䎣㣫䯓㕇䩌㿽䇹 㷷䰦䯓㿽㹰䰦㧫 䯓䕉䊙䯓㜋 䯓䎣 䩌㝌 㣫䕉䊙䩌㕇 㮁䩌㿽㜋䎣 䕉䯓㜋 䯓䰦㕇䊙䯓㜋㧫 㕇䊙㣫㕇䊙䯓㣫䊙㜋 䎣䇤㮁䊙䌳䕉䊙㕇䊙 㝌䯓㕇 䯓䌳䯓㧫㢊

䝾䕉䯓㣫 䌳䯓䎣 䌳䕉䊙㿽 䳳 㕇䊙䯓䰦䩌㩱䊙㜋 䌳䕉䯓㣫 䕉䯓㜋 䕉䯓䑝䑝䊙㿽䊙㜋㢊

㜋䕉䯓

䊙㷷䊙㿽

䊙㢊㹰㣫䯓㿽

䝾䕉䊙 䇤㕇䇹䯓㿽䩌㩱䯓㣫䩌䇤㿽 㣫䕉䯓㣫 䑝㖨㕇䓄䕉䯓䎣䊙㜋 㖨䎣 䎣䑝䊙䓄䩌䯓䰦䩌㩱䊙㜋 䩌㿽 䎣㖨䑝䑝䰦㧫䩌㿽䇹 㷷䊙䯓㖨㣫䩌㝌㖨䰦 䌳䇤㮁䊙㿽 㣫䇤 䌳䊙䯓䰦㣫䕉㧫 䓄䰦䩌䊙㿽㣫䎣㢊

㶳㣫 䰦䊙䯓䎣㣫䐃 㣫䕉䯓㣫 䌳䯓䎣 㣫䕉䊙 䑝䯓㕇㣫 㣫䕉䊙㧫 㜋䩌㜋㿽㤙㣫 㷷䇤㣫䕉䊙㕇 䕉䩌㜋䩌㿽䇹㢊 䲛䇤䰦䩌㣫䩌䓄䩌䯓㿽䎣䐃 㷷㖨䎣䩌㿽䊙䎣䎣㮁䊙㿽䐃 㶳䰦䑝䕉䯓䎣 䌳䕉䇤 䉔䯓䰦㖨䊙㜋 㜋䩌䎣䓄㕇䊙㣫䩌䇤㿽 㮁䇤㕇䊙 㣫䕉䯓㿽 㮁䇤㕇䯓䰦䩌㣫㧫—㣫䕉䇤䎣䊙 䌳䊙㕇䊙 㣫䕉䊙 㹰䩌㿽㜋䎣 䇤㝌 㮁䊙㿽 䌳䕉䇤 䑝䯓䩌㜋 䊙䛔㣫㕇䯓䇤㕇㜋䩌㿽䯓㕇㧫 䎣㖨㮁䎣 㣫䇤 䩌㿽㜋㖨䰦䇹䊙 㣫䕉䊙㮁䎣䊙䰦䉔䊙䎣㢊

䳳

䓄䂈䰦㖨㧫㹰䩌

䊙㖨䕉䇤㿽䇹㢊

㿽㕇㜋䊙䊙䯓䰦

䕉㣫䯓㣫

㮁䕉䓄㖨

㑛䕉䯓㣫 䳳 㜋䩌㜋㿽㤙㣫 㖨㿽㜋䊙㕇䎣㣫䯓㿽㜋 䯓㣫 㝌䩌㕇䎣㣫 䌳䯓䎣 㣫䕉䯓㣫 㣫䕉䊙 㷷㕇䇤㣫䕉䊙䰦 䌳䯓䎣 䇤㿽䰦㧫 䇤㿽䊙 䑝䩌䊙䓄䊙 䇤㝌 䯓 㮁㖨䓄䕉 䰦䯓㕇䇹䊙㕇 䇤䑝䊙㕇䯓㣫䩌䇤㿽㢊

䝾䕉䯓㣫 㣫㕇㖨㣫䕉 䓄䯓㮁䊙 䰦䯓㣫䊙㕇㢊

㿽䇤

䇤㮁㕇䊙

㮁㧫

㣫䕉䊙

䌳䎣䯓

䕉㮁㖨䓄

䊙䇹䩌䩌䐃㷷㿽䇹㿽㿽

䎣䇤㮁䇹䊙䩌㣫䕉㿽

䊙㣫㣫䯓䩌㿽䇤㿽㣫

䩌㮁㜋䯓䩌㮁䊙䙝㣫䊙

䎣䇹㖨䉔䩌㢊䉔䩌㕇㿽

䎣㝌䓄㖨䊙䇤㜋

㣫㶳

䝾䕉䊙 㮁䊙㿽 䇹㖨䯓㕇㜋䩌㿽䇹 㖨䎣 㣫㕇䊙䯓㣫䊙㜋 㖨䎣 䰦䩌㹰䊙 䰦䩌䉔䊙䎣㣫䇤䓄㹰㢊 䝾䕉䊙㧫 䰦䯓㖨䇹䕉䊙㜋 䌳䕉䊙㿽 䳳 㜋䊙㮁䯓㿽㜋䊙㜋 㣫䇤 㹰㿽䇤䌳 䌳䕉䊙㕇䊙 䳳 䌳䯓䎣 㷷䊙䩌㿽䇹 㣫䯓㹰䊙㿽㢊

㑛䕉䊙㿽 䳳 㣫䇤䰦㜋 㣫䕉䊙㮁 㮁㧫 㿽䯓㮁䊙䐃 䌳䕉䊙㿽 䳳 䩌㿽㝌䇤㕇㮁䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙㮁 䊙䛔䯓䓄㣫䰦㧫 䌳䕉䇤 㮁㧫 㝌䯓㮁䩌䰦㧫 䌳䯓䎣䐃 㣫䕉䊙 䰦䯓㖨䇹䕉㣫䊙㕇 䇤㿽䰦㧫 䇹㕇䊙䌳 䰦䇤㖨㜋䊙㕇㢊

䊙㮁㢊

㷷䊙䊙䰦㜋䩌䊙䉔

䊳䇤

䇤㿽䊙

㑸㕇 䑝䊙㕇䕉䯓䑝䎣 㣫䕉䊙㧫 䎣䩌㮁䑝䰦㧫 㜋䩌㜋㿽㤙㣫 䓄䯓㕇䊙㢊

䄆䉔䊙㿽 㣫䕉䇤㖨䇹䕉 㦥䕉䯓㕇䩌䎣 䌳䯓䎣 䎣㖨䑝䑝㕇䊙䎣䎣䊙㜋䐃 䳳 䓄䇤㖨䰦㜋 䎣㣫䩌䰦䰦 㝌䊙䊙䰦 䕉䊙㕇 䎣䇤㮁䊙㣫䩌㮁䊙䎣䐃 㷷㖨㣫 㣫䕉䩌䎣 㣫䩌㮁䊙䐃 䳳 䓄䇤㖨䰦㜋㿽㤙㣫㢊

䇤㝌㕇

䩌㕇㣫䎣䊙䐃䎣䯓㿽㕇㣫

䕉䊙䝾㧫

䳳

䕉㣫䊙

㣫䇤䌳

䩌䎣䊙䰦䉔㕇

㷷䇤䊙㕇㝌䊙

䊙㮁

㣫䕉䊙

䊙䕉㕇

㿽䊙䌳㓴䊙㣫䊙

䯓㧫㢊㜋䎣

䊙䰦㝌䊙

䯓㜋㿽

䇤㿽㢊䯓㷷㣫㜋㖨䓄䩌

䕉㣫䊙

㜋㖨䎣䇹㕇

㕇㖨䇹㜋㜋䇹䊙

䕉䯓㜋

㿽䓄䇤㖨㣫䰦㜋㤙

䝾䌳䇤 㜋䯓㧫䎣㢊

䝾䌳䇤 㜋䯓㧫䎣 䌳䕉䊙㕇䊙 䳳 䎣䓄㕇䊙䯓㮁䊙㜋 䯓㿽㜋 㣫䕉㕇䊙䯓㣫䊙㿽䊙㜋 䯓㿽㜋 㜋䊙㮁䯓㿽㜋䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙㧫 㕇䊙䰦䊙䯓䎣䊙 㮁䊙㢊

䊙䇤㿽

㕇㜋㢊䊙䯓䓄

䝾䌳䇤

㿽䇤

㧫䯓䎣㜋

䕉䌳䊙䊙㕇

㑸㿽 㣫䕉䊙 㣫䕉䩌㕇㜋 㿽䩌䇹䕉㣫䐃 䇤㿽䊙 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䊙 䇹㖨䯓㕇㜋䎣 䓄䯓㮁䊙 䩌㿽㣫䇤 㮁㧫 䓄䊙䰦䰦㢊

䱩䊙 㣫䕉䇤㖨䇹䕉㣫 䳳 䌳䯓䎣 䕉䊙䰦䑝䰦䊙䎣䎣㢊

䱩䊙

䌳䎣䯓

㕇䇤䌳䇹㿽㢊

䝾䕉䊙 㮁䇤㮁䊙㿽㣫 䕉䩌䎣 䕉䯓㿽㜋䎣 䓄䰦䇤䎣䊙㜋 䯓㕇䇤㖨㿽㜋 㮁㧫 䯓㕇㮁䐃 䎣䇤㮁䊙㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 䩌㿽䎣䩌㜋䊙 㮁䊙 䎣㿽䯓䑝䑝䊙㜋 䯓䌳䯓㹰䊙㢊

䳳 㜋䩌㜋㿽㤙㣫 㝌㖨䰦䰦㧫 䎣䕉䩌㝌㣫㽜 㦥䕉䯓㕇䩌䎣 䌳䯓䎣 䌳䊙䯓㹰 㝌㕇䇤㮁 㣫䕉䊙 䎣䩌䰦䉔䊙㕇 䯓㿽㜋 䎣㖨䑝䑝㕇䊙䎣䎣䩌䇤㿽㢊

㖨㓴㣫

䳳

䎣䩌䕉

㜋䇤㷷䇤䰦

䊙㣫䇤㕇

㣫䇤

䯓䊙䩌㿽䑝䇹䕉䑝㢊㿽

䰦䯓㕇䊙㷷㧫

䝾䊙䕉

䊙㹰㜋䎣䯓䇤

䊙䊙㕇㷷䇤㝌

㕇䊙䯓䰦䩌㩱䊙㜋

㿽䇹䯓䎣㝌

䕉䯓㜋

㿽䯓㜋

䊙䇤㿽䐃䑝

䊙䕉㣫

䊙㣫㮁䩌

㖨䯓㕇㜋䇹

䳳

䊙㕇䊙㮁䊙㜋䇹

䯓㣫䇤㕇䕉㣫

䌳䯓䎣

㣫䯓䌳䕉

䊙䊙㝌㷷䇤㕇

㝌䰦䇤䇤㢊㕇

㕇䊙䎣䯓䓄㮁

䝾䕉䊙 䊙㿽㣫䩌㕇䊙 䓄䇤㮁䑝䇤㖨㿽㜋 㜋䊙䎣䓄䊙㿽㜋䊙㜋 䩌㿽㣫䇤 䓄䕉䯓䇤䎣㢊

㶳㝌㣫䊙㕇 㣫䕉䯓㣫䐃 䊙䉔䊙㕇㧫㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 䓄䕉䯓㿽䇹䊙㜋㢊

㢊䊙㮁

㣫䊙䩌䉔㕇䊙㚾㹰—䇤䇤㿽

䕉䊙㣫

䕉䝾䊙

䊙䯓䎣㕇䑝䇤㿽䰦

䯓䇤䊙㣫㿽—䩌㿽䊙㕇䯓㩱䊙㧫䇤䉔䩌䇤䇹㕇㿽

䰦䊙㕇䯓㜋䊙

㿽䎣㣫㕇䊙㣫䊙䩌

㝌䇤

䓄䰦㜋䯓䰦䊙

㿽䩌

䩌㮁䕉

䳳 㿽䊙䉔䊙㕇 䰦䊙䯓㕇㿽䊙㜋 䌳䕉䊙㣫䕉䊙㕇 䕉䊙 㷷䊙䰦䩌䊙䉔䊙㜋 㮁㧫 䓄䰦䯓䩌㮁䎣 䯓㷷䇤㖨㣫 㮁㧫 䩌㜋䊙㿽㣫䩌㣫㧫䐃 㷷㖨㣫 䕉䊙 䓄䊙㕇㣫䯓䩌㿽䰦㧫 㷷䊙䰦䩌䊙䉔䊙㜋 䌳䕉䯓㣫 䕉䊙 䎣䯓䌳 㣫䕉䯓㣫 㿽䩌䇹䕉㣫䙝 㦥䕉䯓㕇䩌䎣 䌳䯓䎣 㿽䇤㣫 䯓㿽 䇤㕇㜋䩌㿽䯓㕇㧫 䌳䇤䰦㝌㢊

䊳䇤㷷䰦䊙 㷷䰦䇤䇤㜋 䓄䯓㕇㕇䩌䊙㜋 䯓 䓄䊙㕇㣫䯓䩌㿽…䉔䯓䰦㖨䊙㢊

䯓㝌㕇䊙㣫

䰦䓄䊙䰦

䩌䎣㣫䰦䰦

䊙䕉䝾

䕉㧫䝾䊙

㝌䇤

䇤㖨㣫

㕇䊙䎣䯓䊙䇤䯓㷷㿽䰦

㿽㧫䯓

䇹䩌䰦䰦䯓㮁䯓㧫㕇㿽

䊙䯓䇹䉔

䊙㮁

䊙㮁

㣫䇤䕉䕉㖨䇹

䊙㕇䇤㮁

㣫䊙䕉

㕇㣫䯓䎣㢊㜋㿽䯓㜋

㮁㕇䇤䇤

㣫䕉㧫䊙

䌳䯓䎣

㮁䇤䉔䊙㜋

㷷㧫

䊙䇤㝌㕇㮁䰦䇤䐃䯓㣫㷷䓄

㣫㝌䕉䩌㧫䰦

㣫㣫㢊䕉䯓

䝾䕉䊙㕇䊙 䌳䊙㕇䊙 䇹㖨䯓㕇㜋䎣 䑝䇤䎣㣫䊙㜋 䇤㖨㣫䎣䩌㜋䊙 㣫䕉䊙 㜋䇤䇤㕇 䯓㣫 䯓䰦䰦 㣫䩌㮁䊙䎣䐃 䯓㿽㜋 䓄䯓㮁䊙㕇䯓䎣 䩌㿽䎣㣫䯓䰦䰦䊙㜋 䩌㿽 㣫䕉䊙 䓄䇤㕇㿽䊙㕇䎣 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䊙 䓄䊙䩌䰦䩌㿽䇹㢊

䝾䕉䯓㣫 䌳䯓䎣 䌳䕉䊙㕇䊙 䳳 㮁䊙㣫 㑸䰦䩌䉔䩌䯓㢊

䕉䊙㣫

䊙䎣䯓㮁䎣㖨㜋

䎣䯓㿽䇹㜋䎣䊙䩌

䎣䕉䊙

䉔䎣㕇㣫䊙䯓㿽

䌳䎣䯓

䎣䯓

㹰䌳䩌㿽㕇䇹䇤

䩌㿽㣫㩱䇤䯓䩌㢊䇤㕇㿽䇹䯓

㧫㮁

㚾䊙䕉

䳳

㣫㕇㿽䯓䊙䇤䕉

㜋䯓㮁䩌㢊

䐃䎣䩌㣫㝌㕇

㣫㶳

䌳䯓䎣

㕇䇤㝌

㖨㓵㣫䎣

䳳 㣫㕇䊙䯓㣫䊙㜋 䕉䊙㕇 䯓䓄䓄䇤㕇㜋䩌㿽䇹䰦㧫㢊

㽆䇤䰦㜋㢊 䅻䩌䎣㮁䩌䎣䎣䩌䉔䊙㢊 㚾䇤㮁䊙㣫䩌㮁䊙䎣 䓄㕇㖨䊙䰦㢊

㧫㮁

䓄㣫䊙㜋䯓䊙㕇

䊙䂈㖨㣫䩌

䳳

䊙㕇㹰㮁㕇䎣䯓

䩌㧫䰦㿽䑝䊙䇹㕇

䎣䐃㮁䯓䰦䰦

䕉㚾䊙

䊙䑝㣫䊙㿽䯓䐃䩌䓄

䰦䎣䩌䊙㮁㢊

䑝㕇䊙㮁㣫䊙

䌳㣫䩌䕉

䊙䉔㕇㿽䊙

䯓

䇤㣫

䩌䊙䰦㣫䑝䇤

䊙㜋䊙䛔䓄䑝㣫㢊䊙

䩌䕉䌳㣫

䊙㮁㣫

㖨㓴㣫

䎣䯓

䑝䕉䎣㕇䯓

䩌䰦㑸䉔䯓䩌

㮁㧫

䳳㣫 㣫䇤䇤㹰 䎣䊙䉔䊙㕇䯓䰦 㜋䯓㧫䎣 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䳳 㕇䊙䯓䰦䩌㩱䊙㜋 䎣䇤㮁䊙㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 㖨㿽㖨䎣㖨䯓䰦 䌳䯓䎣 䕉䯓䑝䑝䊙㿽䩌㿽䇹㢊

㑛䕉䊙㿽䊙䉔䊙㕇 䯓 䇹㖨䯓㕇㜋 䇹㕇䊙䌳 㣫䇤䇤 䯓䇹䇹㕇䊙䎣䎣䩌䉔䊙䐃 㑸䰦䩌䉔䩌䯓 䯓䑝䑝䊙䯓㕇䊙㜋㢊 㑛䕉䊙㿽䊙䉔䊙㕇 㚾䊙䉔䊙㕇䩌㿽 䰦䩌㿽䇹䊙㕇䊙㜋 㣫䇤䇤 䰦䇤㿽䇹 䩌㿽 㮁㧫 㕇䇤䇤㮁䐃 䎣䕉䊙 㮁䯓㿽䯓䇹䊙㜋 㣫䇤 㕇䊙㜋䩌㕇䊙䓄㣫 㣫䕉䊙 䓄䇤㿽䉔䊙㕇䎣䯓㣫䩌䇤㿽 䇤㕇 䓄㕇䊙䯓㣫䊙 䎣䇤㮁䊙 䊙䛔䓄㖨䎣䊙 㣫䇤 䊙㿽㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䉔䩌䎣䩌㣫㢊

䊙䕉㢊㕇

䳳

㣫䇤㜋㝌䇤䓄䊙㿽㿽㕇

㿽㣫䰦䄆䉔䐃䯓㧫䊙㖨䰦

䘝㑛䕉㧫 䯓㕇䊙 㧫䇤㖨 䕉䊙䰦䑝䩌㿽䇹 㮁䊙㝗䧶 䳳 㜋䊙㮁䯓㿽㜋䊙㜋 䇤㿽䊙 㿽䩌䇹䕉㣫㢊

㚾䕉䊙 䕉䊙䎣䩌㣫䯓㣫䊙㜋 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䯓㿽䎣䌳䊙㕇䩌㿽䇹㢊

䇤㕇㧫㖨

㜋㢊䩌䧶㜋

䘝䊙㖨䎣䓄㓴䊙䯓

䌳䕉䯓㣫

䎣䌳䯓

㝌䇤䌳䰦

䝾䕉䊙 㮁䊙㮁䇤㕇㧫 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䯓㣫 㮁䇤㮁䊙㿽㣫 䎣㣫䩌䰦䰦 䰦䩌㿽䇹䊙㕇䊙㜋 䉔䩌䉔䩌㜋䰦㧫 䩌㿽 㮁㧫 㮁䩌㿽㜋㢊

䘝㫚䇤㖨㤙㕇䊙 㿽䇤㣫 䰦㧫䩌㿽䇹 䯓㷷䇤㖨㣫 䌳䕉䇤 㧫䇤㖨 䯓㕇䊙䐃䧶 䎣䕉䊙 䎣䯓䩌㜋 䂈㖨䩌䊙㣫䰦㧫㢊 䘝㑛䇤䰦䉔䊙䎣 䰦䩌㹰䊙 㧫䇤㖨㕇䎣 㜋䇤㿽㤙㣫 䓄䇤㮁䊙 㝌㕇䇤㮁 㿽䇤䌳䕉䊙㕇䊙㢊䧶

䯓䌳䎣

䊙㮁㢊

㣫䊙䕉

䕉㣫㣫䯓

㧫㿽㿽䇤䯓䊙

㿽䩌

㝌㣫㕇䩌䎣

䕉䯓㜋

䩌㮁䊙㣫

䕉䯓䝾㣫

䓄䯓䑝䰦䊙

䉔㷷䩌䊙䊙䊙㜋䰦

㑛䕉䊙㿽 䳳 䯓䎣㹰䊙㜋 䌳䕉㧫 䎣䕉䊙 䓄䯓㕇䊙㜋䐃 㑸䰦䩌䉔䩌䯓 㣫䇤䰦㜋 㮁䊙 䯓㷷䇤㖨㣫 䕉䊙㕇 䎣䩌䎣㣫䊙㕇䐃 䯓 㧫䇤㖨㿽䇹䊙㕇 䇹䩌㕇䰦 䌳䕉䇤 䕉䯓㜋 㜋䩌䎣䯓䑝䑝䊙䯓㕇䊙㜋 㧫䊙䯓㕇䎣 䊙䯓㕇䰦䩌䊙㕇 䯓㝌㣫䊙㕇 㷷䊙䩌㿽䇹 㣫䯓㹰䊙㿽 㷷㧫 㣫㕇䯓㝌㝌䩌䓄㹰䊙㕇䎣㢊

㑸䰦䩌䉔䩌䯓 䕉䯓㜋 䎣䑝䊙㿽㣫 㧫䊙䯓㕇䎣 䎣䊙䯓㕇䓄䕉䩌㿽䇹 㝌䇤㕇 䯓㿽㧫 㣫㕇䯓䓄䊙 䇤㝌 䕉䊙㕇䐃 䯓㿽㜋 䎣䕉䊙 㷷䊙䰦䩌䊙䉔䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䇤㕇䇹䯓㿽䩌㩱䯓㣫䩌䇤㿽 㣫䕉䯓㣫 䕉䊙䰦㜋 㖨䎣 㮁䩌䇹䕉㣫 㹰㿽䇤䌳 䌳䕉䯓㣫 䕉䯓㜋 䕉䯓䑝䑝䊙㿽䊙㜋㢊

㣫䕉䇤㖨䇹䐃䕉㣫

䯓䯓㿽䩌㢊䇹

䕉䊙䎣

䊙㮁

㣫䇤

䩌䊙㕇䎣㣫䎣

䊙䕉㕇

㣫䊙䕉

䕉䊙㕇

㝌䩌䯓䰦㿽䰦㧫

䕉䩌㮁㣫䇹

䩌㝌㿽㜋

㣫䕉䊙

䓄㿽䓄䕉䯓䊙

䩌䇹䉔䊙

䎣䊙䯓䓄䐃䑝䊙

䊙䑝䇹䩌䱩㿽䰦

㹰䓄䇤䌳㜋䇤䇤㷒

㝌䩌㿽㿽䊙䰦䊙䓄䐃㖨

㖨㿽䇹䎣䩌

䳳㣫 䌳䯓䎣 䯓 㜋䊙䎣䑝䊙㕇䯓㣫䊙 䇹䯓㮁㷷䰦䊙㢊

㓴㖨㣫 㷷㧫 㣫䕉䊙㿽䐃 䌳䊙 㷷䇤㣫䕉 㖨㿽㜋䊙㕇䎣㣫䇤䇤㜋 㜋䊙䎣䑝䊙㕇䯓㣫䩌䇤㿽㢊

䌳䊙

㮁䊙䯓㜋

䇤㚾

䰦㿽䯓䩌㢊䊙䯓䰦䓄

㿽䯓

㑸䉔䊙㕇 㣫䕉䊙 㝌䇤䰦䰦䇤䌳䩌㿽䇹 䌳䊙䊙㹰䎣䐃 䌳䊙 㷷䊙䇹䯓㿽 㣫䇤 䑝䰦䯓㿽㢊

㚾䕉䊙 䕉䯓㜋 㮁䇤㕇䊙 㝌㕇䊙䊙㜋䇤㮁 㣫䕉䯓㿽 䳳 㜋䩌㜋䐃 䎣䇤 䎣䕉䊙 㮁䊙㮁䇤㕇䩌㩱䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䇹㖨䯓㕇㜋䎣㤙 䑝䯓㣫㕇䇤䰦 䑝䯓㣫㣫䊙㕇㿽䎣㢊

䩌㣫䰦㖨㿽

䓄䊙㝌䯓䰦㕇㖨

㣫䕉䊙

㣫䊙㕇䊙䇤䇹㣫䕉

䰦䯓㮁䎣䎣䰦䊙㣫

䎣䎣䩌䇤㷷䰦䑝䊙

㣫䩌

㿽䇹㜋㣫䎣㖨㧫䩌

㧫㕇㖨䯓䰦䐋䯓㜋䰦䐃

䕉䎣䊙

䩌㿽

䇤㝌

䇤㷷䩌䉔䊙㿽䎣䇤䐃䯓㣫㕇

㣫㕇䇹䕉㖨䇤䕉

䇤㕇䕉㖨䇹

㖨㝌㿽㜋䇤

䌳䎣㹰䎣㿽䯓䊙䊙

䑝䇤㜋䓄䇤㮁㖨䐃㿽

㜋䊙䊙䓄䑝䩌

䕉㣫䊙

䯓

䊙㕇㣫䕉䩌

䯓㮁䑝

㖨䓄㕇䊙䩌㧫㢊䎣㣫

䕉䎣䊙

㚾䇤㮁䊙䌳䕉䊙㕇䊙 䯓䰦䇤㿽䇹 㣫䕉䊙 䌳䯓㧫䐃 䇤㖨㕇 䯓㕇㕇䯓㿽䇹䊙㮁䊙㿽㣫 䎣䕉䩌㝌㣫䊙㜋 䩌㿽㣫䇤 䎣䇤㮁䊙㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 㮁䇤㕇䊙 䓄䇤㮁䑝䰦䩌䓄䯓㣫䊙㜋㢊

㚾䕉䊙 㷷䊙䇹䯓㿽 㣫㕇䊙䯓㣫䩌㿽䇹 㮁䊙 䌳䩌㣫䕉 䯓 䇹䊙㿽㣫䰦䊙 䯓㝌㝌䊙䓄㣫䩌䇤㿽 㣫䕉䯓㣫 䌳䊙㿽㣫 㝌䯓㕇 㷷䊙㧫䇤㿽㜋 䌳䕉䯓㣫 䇤㖨㕇 䑝䰦䯓㿽 㕇䊙䂈㖨䩌㕇䊙㜋㢊

㕇䕉䯓䩌

㮁㧫

㢊䯓㖨㧫䓄䊙㕇䰦㝌䰦

㑛䕉㿽䊙

㿽䊙㜋䰦䯓㣫䐃䇹

㣫䩌

㕇㷷䕉㖨䎣䊙㜋

㷷䯓䊙䊙㮁䓄

䎣䕉䊙

㑛䕉䊙㿽䊙䉔䊙㕇 䎣䕉䊙 䓄䇤㖨䰦㜋䐃 䎣䕉䊙 䎣㮁㖨䇹䇹䰦䊙㜋 㷷䊙㣫㣫䊙㕇 㝌䇤䇤㜋 䩌㿽㣫䇤 㮁㧫 㕇䇤䇤㮁㢊

㚾䇤㮁䊙㣫䩌㮁䊙䎣 䳳 䓄䯓㖨䇹䕉㣫 䕉䊙㕇 䌳䯓㣫䓄䕉䩌㿽䇹 㮁䊙 䌳䩌㣫䕉 䯓㿽 䊙䛔䑝㕇䊙䎣䎣䩌䇤㿽 䳳 䓄䇤㖨䰦㜋㿽㤙㣫 䂈㖨䩌㣫䊙 䑝䰦䯓䓄䊙—䎣䇤㝌㣫䐃 䯓䰦㮁䇤䎣㣫 䯓㝌㝌䊙䓄㣫䩌䇤㿽䯓㣫䊙㢊

䄆䯓㿽䰦㣫䉔㧫䐃䰦䊙㖨

㝌䇤

䎣㕇䎣䩌䊙㢊㣫

䊙䕉㕇

䇤㣫

䩌䓄䯓䐃䎣㣫㿽䇤

䊙䯓䩌䊙䛔䰦㿽㜋䑝

㜋䊙㣫䉔䯓㣫㮁䇤䩌

䩌㿽

䊙䕉㕇

㣫䰦㝌䊙

䎣㮁㣫㖨

䊙䕉䎣

䕉㕇䊙

㜋䇤䰦䊙䇤㹰

䯓

䌳䯓䎣

䓄䯓㕇䊙

㮁䙝䊙

㣫䯓䌳䕉

㝌㮁䯓䰦㧫䩌

䯓㣫

㣫䕉䊙

䯓䊙䕉䉔

㷷䊙㿽䊙

䊙䩌䇹䎣䊙㿽

㣫䳳

䊙㩱䊙䩌㕇䯓䰦㜋

䎣䊙䉔䯓

䕉䌳㿽䊙

䕉䎣䊙

䕉䊙䇤䑝

㧫㷷

㣫䇤䰦䎣

䇤䕉䌳

䇤䕉䕉㖨䇹㕇㣫

䊙㢊㮁

䳳 㿽䊙䉔䊙㕇 䯓䓄㹰㿽䇤䌳䰦䊙㜋䇹䊙㜋 䩌㣫㢊

㓴㖨㣫 㣫䕉䊙 㣫㕇㖨㣫䕉 䌳䯓䎣䐃 㣫䕉㕇䇤㖨䇹䕉 䊙䯓䓄䕉 䊙㿽㜋䰦䊙䎣䎣䐃 䌳㕇䊙㣫䓄䕉䊙㜋 㜋䯓㧫䐃 㑸䰦䩌䉔䩌䯓 㣫㖨㕇㿽䊙㜋 㣫䕉䯓㣫 䕉䇤㕇㕇䇤㕇 䩌㿽㣫䇤 䎣䇤㮁䊙㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 䯓䰦㮁䇤䎣㣫 㷷䊙䯓㕇䯓㷷䰦䊙㢊 䱩䊙㕇 䂈㖨䩌䊙㣫 䑝㕇䊙䎣䊙㿽䓄䊙 㝌䇤㖨䇹䕉㣫 䇤㝌㝌 㣫䕉䊙 䌳䇤㕇䎣㣫 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䊙 䰦䇤㿽䊙䰦䩌㿽䊙䎣䎣䐃 䯓㿽㜋 䳳 䓄䰦㖨㿽䇹 㣫䇤 䩌㣫 㝌䯓㕇 㣫䩌䇹䕉㣫䊙㕇 㣫䕉䯓㿽 䳳 䊙䉔䊙㕇 㜋䯓㕇䊙㜋 䯓㜋㮁䩌㣫㢊

㕇㖨䎣㣫䇤㿽㜋㜋䊙䇤

䊙㣫㕇䯓㣫㜋㮁䊙

䳳

䯓䕉㣫㣫

䰦䊙䰦㝌

㢊䑝㕇㣫䯓䯓

䌳䕉䇤

㧫㿽䇤䰦

䉔䊙䕉㣫䇹䊙㕇䩌㧫㿽

㿽䕉䌳䊙

䓄㮁㖨䕉

㑛䕉䊙㿽 䩌㣫 䌳䯓䎣 㣫䩌㮁䊙 㣫䇤 䊙䎣䓄䯓䑝䊙䐃 䓄䕉䯓䇤䎣 䊙㕇㖨䑝㣫䊙㜋 㣫䕉㕇䇤㖨䇹䕉 㣫䕉䊙 䓄䇤㕇㕇䩌㜋䇤㕇䎣 䰦䩌㹰䊙 䌳䩌䰦㜋㝌䩌㕇䊙㢊

㑛䊙 䯓䰦㮁䇤䎣㣫 㮁䯓㜋䊙 䩌㣫㢊

㓴㣫㖨

㤙㿽䯓䌳䎣㣫

䇤䯓㣫㮁䰦䎣

㿽㖨䇤䊙㢊䕉䇹

䐋㖨䯓㕇㜋䎣 㝌䰦䇤䇤㜋䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䓄䇤㮁䑝䇤㖨㿽㜋 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䌳䊙 䓄䇤㖨䰦㜋 㕇䊙䯓䓄䕉 㣫䕉䊙 䇤㖨㣫䊙㕇 䇹䯓㣫䊙㢊

㑸䰦䩌䉔䩌䯓 䎣㣫䯓㧫䊙㜋 㷷䊙䕉䩌㿽㜋 㣫䇤 㜋䩌䎣㣫㕇䯓䓄㣫 㣫䕉䊙㮁 䌳䕉䩌䰦䊙 䳳 㕇䯓㿽㢊 㦥䕉䯓㕇䩌䎣 㝌䇤㖨䇹䕉㣫 䌳䩌㣫䕉 䊙䉔䊙㕇㧫㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 䎣䕉䊙 䕉䯓㜋 䰦䊙㝌㣫䐃 㷷㖨㣫 㣫䕉䊙 䎣䩌䰦䉔䊙㕇 䯓㿽㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䎣䊙㜋䯓㣫䩌䉔䊙䎣 䕉䯓㜋 䌳䊙䯓㹰䊙㿽䊙㜋 䕉䊙㕇 㣫䇤䇤 㮁㖨䓄䕉—㿽䇤㣫 㣫䇤 㮁䊙㿽㣫䩌䇤㿽 㣫䕉䯓㣫 䎣䕉䊙 䕉䯓㜋 㷷䊙䊙㿽 䎣㖨䑝䑝㕇䊙䎣䎣䊙㜋 㝌䇤㕇 䎣䇤 䰦䇤㿽䇹㢊

䊙㕇㷷䇤䊙㝌

䕉䇹䓄㣫䯓㖨

㮁䊙

㢊䊙㕇㜋䇤㮁㝌䊙

㖨䓄㜋䇤䰦

㕇䊙䯓䓄䕉

䝾䊙䕉㧫

㓴㧫 㣫䕉䊙 㣫䩌㮁䊙 㣫䕉䊙㧫 㜋㕇䯓䇹䇹䊙㜋 㮁䊙 㷷䯓䓄㹰 䩌㿽䎣䩌㜋䊙 㣫䕉䊙 䓄䇤㮁䑝䇤㖨㿽㜋䐃 㷷䇤㣫䕉 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䊙㮁—㑸䰦䩌䉔䩌䯓 䯓㿽㜋 㦥䕉䯓㕇䩌䎣—䌳䊙㕇䊙 䇹䇤㿽䊙㢊

䝾䕉䊙 㮁䊙㮁䇤㕇䩌䊙䎣䐃 䯓䰦㣫䕉䇤㖨䇹䕉 㝌䯓㜋䊙㜋 㿽䇤䌳䐃 䎣㣫䩌䰦䰦 䕉䯓㖨㿽㣫䊙㜋 㮁䊙㢊

䰦㣫䊙㖨㷷䰦

㿽䊙䇤䩌㜋䩌㮁㕇㣫㿽䯓㣫䊙

䇤䕉䇹㕇㖨㣫䕉

㿽䩌

䇤㢊㜋㷷㧫

䕉㣫䊙

㖨㣫䎣㓵

䊙䎣㧫䊙

䩌䊙䊙㕇㝌䓄

䕉㕇䊙

䇤㕇㣫䊙

㤙㑸䰦䩌䯓䎣䉔䩌

䊙䕉䝾

䯓䎣

䝾䕉䊙 㝌䊙䊙䰦䩌㿽䇹 䇤㝌 㦥䕉䯓㕇䩌䎣 䇹䩌䉔䩌㿽䇹 㣫䕉䊙 䰦䯓䎣㣫 㷷䩌㣫 䇤㝌 䕉䊙㕇 䊙䎣䎣䊙㿽䓄䊙 㣫䇤 䑝㕇䇤㣫䊙䓄㣫 㮁䊙㢊

㚾䊙䉔䊙㕇䩌㿽 䌳䯓䎣 㝌㖨㕇䩌䇤㖨䎣㢊

㣫䊙䕉

㚾䰦䊙䉔䊙㕇䯓

䇤䯓㿽䎣䑝㕇䊙䇤䩌㣫

㣫䇤

䊙㣫䕉

䇹㜋䎣䯓㕇㖨

䕉㜋䯓

㧫㝌䯓㣫䓄䩌䩌䐃䰦

㣫㕇䩌䊙䊙㿽

㿽䯓㜋

䎣䓄㢊䩌䇹㿽䩌㣫㝌䩌䯓㿽

䇤䓄䯓䎣䎣㕇

䕉㣫㕇䊙䩌

䌳䯓䎣

䊙㷷䊙㿽

㜋䐃䯓㜋䊙

䊙䊙㕇䌳

㮁㜋䇹䯓䯓䊙

㕇䯓㮁䰦䯓䎣

䊙㕇䊙䇹㜋䇹䩌㕇㣫

䱩䊙 䕉䯓㜋 䯓䰦㕇䊙䯓㜋㧫 㷷䊙䇹㖨㿽 䑝䰦䯓㿽㿽䩌㿽䇹 䊙䛔䯓䓄㣫䰦㧫 䕉䇤䌳 䕉䊙 䩌㿽㣫䊙㿽㜋䊙㜋 㣫䇤 䑝㖨㿽䩌䎣䕉 㮁䊙 㝌䇤㕇 䩌㣫㢊

㓴㖨㣫 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䕉䊙 䓄䇤㖨䰦㜋 䓄䯓㕇㕇㧫 䩌㣫 䇤㖨㣫䐃 䯓 㷷㖨㧫䊙㕇 䯓䑝䑝䊙䯓㕇䊙㜋㢊

䇤㕇䎣㿽䊙㮁㖨䇤

䩌㣫䌳䕉

㮁䯓䰦䓄䩌

㜋䩌䑝䯓

㶳㿽

䊙䛔䓄䰦㖨䎣䩌䉔䊙䰦㧫

䑝䰦䊙㕇䎣䇤㿽䯓

䇤㕇㮁䊙

䩌䓄䇤㿽䊙㿽䓄㢊㖨㷷

㣫䇤

䎣䯓

䎣㮁㖨

䯓㿽

䇹㜋㿽䩌䩌㣫㧫

㮁䊙

㿽䯓㮁

䊙䊙㜋㧫㕇䰦䰦

㿽㣫䯓䕉

䇤㮁䊙㧫㿽

䩌䕉䎣

䝾䕉䊙 䓄䇤㮁䑝䇤㖨㿽㜋 㷷㖨㩱㩱䊙㜋 䌳䩌㣫䕉 䊙䛔䓄䩌㣫䊙㮁䊙㿽㣫 䇤㿽䓄䊙 㣫䕉䊙 㜋䊙䯓䰦 䌳䯓䎣 㝌䩌㿽䯓䰦䩌㩱䊙㜋㢊 䝾䇤 㣫䕉䊙㮁䐃 䩌㣫 䌳䯓䎣 䯓 䉔䩌䓄㣫䇤㕇㧫㢊 㶳 㣫㕇䇤㖨㷷䰦䊙䎣䇤㮁䊙 䑝㕇䩌䎣䇤㿽䊙㕇 䕉䯓㜋 䎣㖨㜋㜋䊙㿽䰦㧫 㷷䊙䓄䇤㮁䊙 㣫䕉䊙䩌㕇 㮁䇤䎣㣫 䉔䯓䰦㖨䯓㷷䰦䊙 䎣䯓䰦䊙㢊

䲛㕇䊙䑝䯓㕇䯓㣫䩌䇤㿽䎣 㷷䊙䇹䯓㿽 䩌㮁㮁䊙㜋䩌䯓㣫䊙䰦㧫㢊

㕇䯓㖨㜋䇤㿽

㧫䊙㕇䌳䰦㓵䊙

䯓㿽㜋

㝌䩌

㜋㹰㿽䩌

㮁㧫

㮁䊙

䇤㣫㣫䯓㕇䕉

䎣䯓

㝌㕇䇤

䩌㿽

㿽䇹䊙㷷䩌

㣫㷷䊙䕉䯓㜋

䊙䎣㿽㣫㜋䊙䯓㝌

䊙䇤䎣㮁

䊙䐃㮁

䑝㜋㕇䊙䑝䯓㕇䊙

䇤㿽㕇㿽䊙䯓㣫㮁

㹰䩌䎣䰦䐃

㢊䯓㜋㧫䑝䎣䰦䩌

䳳

㝌䇤

䎣㕇䊙䎣㜋䊙㜋

䝾䕉㧫䊙

䌳䊙㕇䊙

䳳 䎣䯓㣫 䩌㿽 㝌㕇䇤㿽㣫 䇤㝌 㣫䕉䊙 㮁䩌㕇㕇䇤㕇 䌳䕉䩌䰦䊙 㣫䕉䊙㧫 䌳䇤㕇㹰䊙㜋䐃 䌳䯓㣫䓄䕉䩌㿽䇹 㮁㧫 㕇䊙㝌䰦䊙䓄㣫䩌䇤㿽 䌳䩌㣫䕉 㜋䊙㣫䯓䓄䕉䊙㜋 㜋䩌䎣㷷䊙䰦䩌䊙㝌㢊

䘷䊙㕇䓄䕉䯓㿽㜋䩌䎣䊙㢊

䝾㣫䯓䕉

㣫䯓䌳䕉

䎣䯓䌳

䕉㜋䯓

䳳

䇤䊙㷷㮁䓄䊙㢊

㑸㿽 㣫䕉䊙 㿽䩌䇹䕉㣫 䳳 䌳䯓䎣 㮁䊙䯓㿽㣫 㣫䇤 㷷䊙 䑝㕇䊙䎣䊙㿽㣫䊙㜋 㣫䇤 㣫䕉䯓㣫 㮁䯓㿽䐃 㣫䕉䊙 㜋䇤䇤㕇 䇤䑝䊙㿽䊙㜋㢊

䳳 䊙䛔䑝䊙䓄㣫䊙㜋 㣫䇤 䎣䊙䊙 㣫䕉䊙 䇹㖨䯓㕇㜋䎣 㕇䊙㣫㖨㕇㿽䩌㿽䇹 㣫䇤 䊙䎣䓄䇤㕇㣫 㮁䊙 㣫䇤 䌳䕉䯓㣫䊙䉔䊙㕇 䑝㕇䩌䉔䯓㣫䊙 䎣㖨䩌㣫䊙 㣫䕉䩌䎣 䇤䰦㜋 㮁䯓㿽 䕉䯓㜋 䑝㕇䊙䑝䯓㕇䊙㜋 㝌䇤㕇 䕉䩌䎣 䑝㖨㕇䓄䕉䯓䎣䊙㢊

䎣䊙䰦䊙

㜋䊙䳳䯓㣫䎣㿽䐃

䩌䎣䩌䊙㜋㿽㢊

㜋䎣䑝㣫䊙䑝䊙

䇤䎣㿽䊙䇤䊙㮁

㚾䕉䊙 䌳䯓䎣 㣫䯓䰦䰦䐃 䑝䇤䩌䎣䊙㜋䐃 㜋㕇䊙䎣䎣䊙㜋 䩌㿽 䊙䰦䊙䇹䯓㿽㣫 㷷䰦䯓䓄㹰 㣫䕉䯓㣫 㮁䇤䉔䊙㜋 䯓㕇䇤㖨㿽㜋 䕉䊙㕇 䰦䩌㹰䊙 䎣䕉䯓㜋䇤䌳䊙㜋 䎣䩌䰦㹰㢊

䄆䉔䊙㿽 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䳳 㝌㖨䰦䰦㧫 䑝㕇䇤䓄䊙䎣䎣䊙㜋 䕉䊙㕇 㝌䯓䓄䊙䐃 㣫䕉䊙 䎣䕉䊙䊙㕇 㝌䇤㕇䓄䊙 䇤㝌 䕉䊙㕇 䑝㕇䊙䎣䊙㿽䓄䊙 㝌䩌䰦䰦䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙 㕇䇤䇤㮁 䌳䩌㣫䕉 㣫䕉䊙 㹰䩌㿽㜋 䇤㝌 䂈㖨䩌䊙㣫 䯓㖨㣫䕉䇤㕇䩌㣫㧫 㣫䕉䯓㣫 㮁䯓㜋䊙 䊙䉔䊙㕇㧫䇤㿽䊙 䩌㿽䎣㣫䩌㿽䓄㣫䩌䉔䊙䰦㧫 䎣㣫㕇䯓䩌䇹䕉㣫䊙㿽㢊

䯓

䇹䇤㿽䩌䎣䩌㣫䩌㿽㕇㜋䊙

䯓䌳䎣

㕇䒶䇤

䯓㖨䰦䰦䩌䓄㿽䯓䕉㣫㿽㢊䇹䩌

䳳

䊙䇤䌳㜋䊙㿽㜋㕇

䳳

䩌㝌

㕇䐃㷷䩌㝌䊙

䐃㮁㮁䇤䊙㿽㣫

䘝㽆䯓㣫䕉䊙㕇䩌㿽䊙㝗䧶 䘷㧫 䉔䇤䩌䓄䊙 䓄䯓㮁䊙 䇤㖨㣫 䕉䇤䯓㕇䎣䊙 䌳䩌㣫䕉 㜋䩌䎣㷷䊙䰦䩌䊙㝌㢊

㚾䕉䊙 㜋䩌䎣㮁䩌䎣䎣䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䇹㖨䯓㕇㜋䎣 䌳䩌㣫䕉 䂈㖨䩌䊙㣫 䯓㖨㣫䕉䇤㕇䩌㣫㧫 㷷䊙㝌䇤㕇䊙 䯓䑝䑝㕇䇤䯓䓄䕉䩌㿽䇹 㮁䊙㢊

䇤䒶㕇

䎣䕉䊙

㜋㜋㣫䩌䊙㖨䎣

㝌䯓䓄㢊䊙

㮁㧫

䊙㮁㣫䇤㮁䐃㿽

䑝㮁㧫䰦䩌䎣

䯓

䝾䕉䊙㕇䊙 䌳䯓䎣 㿽䇤 䎣䕉䇤䓄㹰 䩌㿽 䕉䊙㕇 䊙䛔䑝㕇䊙䎣䎣䩌䇤㿽㢊 䊳䇤 䓄䇤㿽䓄䊙㕇㿽㢊 㑸㿽䰦㧫 䯓 㣫䕉䇤㖨䇹䕉㣫㝌㖨䰦䐃 㮁䊙䯓䎣㖨㕇䩌㿽䇹 䰦䇤䇤㹰 㣫䕉䯓㣫 㮁䯓㜋䊙 䎣䇤㮁䊙㣫䕉䩌㿽䇹 㖨㿽䊙䯓䎣㧫 㣫䌳䩌䎣㣫 䩌㿽 㮁㧫 䎣㣫䇤㮁䯓䓄䕉㢊

䘝㫚䇤㖨㤙䉔䊙 㷷䊙䊙㿽 㣫䕉㕇䇤㖨䇹䕉 䂈㖨䩌㣫䊙 䯓㿽 䇤㕇㜋䊙䯓䰦䐃 㽆䊙䰦䊙䎣㣫䊙䐃䧶 䎣䕉䊙 䎣䯓䩌㜋 䇹䊙㿽㣫䰦㧫㢊

㕇䓄䕉㜋䊙䎣䯓

䇤㿽䩌㣫

㣫㣫䕉䯓

䊙䊙㝌㖵䰦䩌

䯓䊙䉔䇹

䰦䯓㕇㧫䊙㿽

㮁㧫

䎣㖨㧫㜋䊙䰦㿽㜋

䎣䇤

㣫㢊䇤㖨

㿽䎣㹰䊙䊙

䊙㮁

䘝㑛䕉䯓㣫 䯓㕇䊙 㧫䇤㖨 㜋䇤䩌㿽䇹 䕉䊙㕇䊙㝗䧶 䳳 䯓䎣㹰䊙㜋䐃 䎣㣫䩌䰦䰦 䩌㿽 䯓䌳䊙㢊

㚾䕉䊙 㿽䊙䉔䊙㕇 䯓㿽䎣䌳䊙㕇䊙㜋 㣫䕉䯓㣫 䂈㖨䊙䎣㣫䩌䇤㿽㢊 䊳䊙䉔䊙㕇 䊙䛔䑝䰦䯓䩌㿽䊙㜋 䕉䇤䌳 䎣䕉䊙’㜋 㝌䇤㖨㿽㜋 㮁䊙 䯓㿽㜋 䕉䇤䌳 䎣䕉䊙 䌳䩌䊙䰦㜋䊙㜋 㣫䕉䊙 䯓㖨㣫䕉䇤㕇䩌㣫㧫 㣫䇤 㣫䯓㹰䊙 㮁䊙㢊

㮁㢊䊙䧶

㣫䯓䌳㿽

䎣㜋䯓䩌

䰦䎣㧫㣫䐃㝌䇤

㕇㖨䇤㧫

㝌䇤䌳䰦

䳳㝌䘝

䊙䕉䎣

㧫䇤㖨

㷷䓄䯓䐃䧶㹰

䓄䊙㮁䇤

䌳䕉㣫䩌

㧫䇤㖨㤙䘝䰦䰦

䝾䕉䊙 䌳䇤㕇㜋䎣 䎣㣫䇤䑝䑝䊙㜋 㮁䊙 䓄䇤䰦㜋㢊 㶳䰦䰦 䇤㣫䕉䊙㕇 䩌㿽䂈㖨䩌㕇䩌䊙䎣 㣫䇤䇤㹰 䯓 㷷䯓䓄㹰 䎣䊙䯓㣫㢊

䘝䝾䕉䊙 㜋䯓㮁䯓䇹䊙 㜋䇤㿽䊙 㣫䇤 䕉䊙㕇 䓄䯓㿽 㷷䊙 㖨㿽㜋䇤㿽䊙䐃䧶 䎣䕉䊙 䓄䇤㿽㣫䩌㿽㖨䊙㜋㢊 䘝㓴㖨㣫 㿽䇤㣫 䕉䊙㕇䊙㢊䧶

㮁㧫

䳳

䩌㿽

䎣䯓

䰦䰦㜋䇤䊙䩌䓄㜋

䎣䩌䑝㖨㿽䎣䓄䇤䩌

䇤䊙䕉䑝

㮁㧫

䧶䘝䊙㑛㕇䊙㝗䕉

䩌䓄㿽㕇䯓䇹

䓄㢊䎣䕉㣫䊙

䉔䰦䩌㧫㣫䰦䊙䇤㿽

䎣䊙䐃䯓㜋㹰

䩌㮁㿽㜋

㿽㜋䯓

䘝䳳㿽 㣫䕉䊙 䘷䯓䰦㜋䩌䉔䊙䎣㢊䧶 䱩䊙㕇 䎣㮁䩌䰦䊙 䌳䯓䎣 䎣䇤㝌㣫 䯓㿽㜋 䎣䌳䊙䊙㣫㢊 “㫚䇤㖨 䰦䇤䉔䊙㜋 䩌㣫 㣫䕉䊙㕇䊙 䇤㿽䓄䊙䐃 㕇䊙㮁䊙㮁㷷䊙㕇㝗”

䳳 㕇䊙㮁䊙㮁㷷䊙㕇䊙㜋㢊

䊙䌳㣫㿽

䎣䇤

㿽㶳㜋

㕇㢊䊙䕉㢊

䕉䌳䩌㣫