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Chapter 14: Face-Off at Table 7
Next chapter:
Chapter 16: Flu of the Heart (Or Something Worse)
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... less Celestia Moreau was holding it.
Unless she was glaring at you like she could carve your sins into your forehead with it.
She sat cross-legged on the couch beside me, textbook open in her lap, eyes locked on mine like I was the pop quiz and she already hated the questions.
We were supposed to be studying.
But I’d barely gotten past the first paragraph of Chapter 7.
Mostly because she hadn’t said a word since she sat down. Just stared. Pencil tapping. L ...
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