Chapter 115 115

The scent of her steams between us. “And you?” She squeezes until I meet her gaze. “Are you alive, Sasha Ozerov?”

The refrigerating motors hum. Twelve-year-old me screams into the blank steel doors.

“I love her, you know.”

She brushes my knuckles. “I know.”

“I love her so much it fucking terrifi...

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