Softer Lighting

At 10:02 p.m., I sent Grant a false run-of-show.

It was one page.

Clean.

Tender.

Designed to make a controlling man feel merciful enough to correct me.

Dana read it and shook her head.

"I hate how good you are at writing bait for your own destruction."

"That is not going in the audit."

"Cowa...

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