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something small. Something simple.
But there was nothing simple about it.
“Why me?” I asked, my voice breaking.
His gaze met mine, sharp and unflinching.
“Because you’re the only one in this house who hasn’t tried to kill me.”
The room went silent.
Too silent.
My ears rang.
I stared at him, waiting—hoping—for him to correct himself. To say I misunderstood.continue reading …
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