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Begged. Promised.
Nothing.
On the third night, he went to their room while they slept. Moonlight covered their faces. They lay pressed together, hands clasped even in sleep.
He reached toward Lucia’s hair.
She opened her eyes.
She did not startle.
She only looked at him.
“You sent Miss Elena away,” she said.
Her voice was cold and clear.
“I hate you.”
Three continue reading …
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