PREVIEW
... st heaving as if I’d run a marathon instead of just sprinting four blocks from the subway station. My appearance was a mess - hair disheveled, tie askew, and I could feel the prosthetic on my nose starting to slip from all the sweating.
"Kira!" I called out desperately, my voice cracking between Oliver’s deep tone and my natural pitch. "KIRA!"
She emerged from the kitchen with a sandwich in one hand and a confused expression on her face. "Liv? What are you..." She stopped mid-sen ...
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