PREVIEW
... rom the shower. His hair clung in soft strands across his forehead, dripping occasionally onto the clean shirt Clyde had lent to him. The room smelled faintly of traditional Chinese medicine and warm steam, the lid of the herbal concoction cup still lying sideways on the table.
He hadn’t argued, not even once. Clyde had stood in front of him, staring with that unreadable face that somehow held more worry than sternness, and Micah had surrendered instantly. He drank the dark brown concoct ...
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