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Chapter 558

  • “Don’t say it like that,” Amora barks, eyes blazing and her fist tightening on her Pop-Tart. It crumbles beneath her grip, bits and pieces raining down to her plate.
  • I reach out beneath the table and grip her knee with a firm but calming squeeze. Catching her gaze, I say softly, “Down, kitty.”
  • She bares her teeth at me but then drops her gaze to her destroyed pastry.
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