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... wheel that night. Maybe it was the traffic, maybe it was the storm in my chest that refused to die down. By the time I pulled into the family estate, the sky had already bruised into deep gray, and the Pack House windows glowed like watchful eyes. It was past six. Late again. Always late these days.
My steps paused when I recalled about Liora. It’s been days and she has not reached out to me. My sweet little girl who always clung to me and called me always, wanting me to rock her to slee ...
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