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... s windows, the pale morning light washing over his face. His phone screen glowed faintly in his palm, and he stared at it with a helpless expression that deepened the crease between his brows. He had felt comfortable too soon, too trusting, too quick to believe that things had finally calmed down.
Micah Ramsy was many things, but predictable wasn’t one of them.
Clyde could already imagine what had happened. Either Micah had recalled something Darcy had said after he left, or that ...
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