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“Please, arrest me. I’d rather go to jail than go back to that house…”

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from the kitchen island stopped the words in my throat.

Leo scrambled frantically backward off the high kitchen stool, the heavy fleece blanket falling in a forgotten heap onto the floor. With a feral, desperate grunt that sounded entirely inhuman, he ripped the soaked, heavy canvas backpack from where he had tucked it beside him. He hoisted it with continue reading …

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