Chapter 47 CHEAP WINE, BLOOD MONEY, AND GOLD DIGGER OF THE YEAR. (PART TWO)

I nodded against her shoulder. She was right. The block of ice hadn't killed me; it was the people dancing around it who did.

We sat on the old, sagging couch. Mara poured me a glass of that cheap wine that stains your teeth and forced me to eat half a slice of cold pizza. The taste of pepperoni in...

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