Chapter 55

ELENA

I take a sip of lemonade.

It is very sour. The sourness spreads from my throat into my chest, faintly, in a way that is probably just the acid of the lemon and nothing else.

"I don't know," I say. Truthfully.

"You don't know?"

"We haven't been in contact for almost eight years," I say. "I know...

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