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iled takeout, cheap perfume, and a certain sour smell
light struggled through a dirty window, with dense dust particles floating in the light. She sat up, and the mo
in the mirror was hers, but something was off: too young, with a thick layer of foundation like putty, eyeliner under her eyes
dipped her hands-then her face-into the icy water. She scrubbed hard, scraping off the "mask" with her
ur. She gripped the edge of the sink tightly, her knuckles turning white, her breathing intermittent. It's been a year. For a year, she endured th
knock pierced throu
Thud
. Jennings, the butler of the Hayes family. He examined the peeling paint in the corridor, h
reached under the mattress to feel around. Your fingertips touch cold plastic-a cheap flip phone and a compact encrypted U
was a bit muffled, but carried a hint of arr
self, brushed her wet hair away from
skin, and the cold, hollow clarity in her eyes-not the wild, hysterical, or pitiful girl he was used to de
He snorted. "Pack your things p
on's voice was soft, hoarse fr
playing tricks. After you did that to Clay Tate, your father wa
ely for her: a crowded party, the spur of alcohol, overwhelming shame, and the immense p
back. She must
hange in tone caught Je
ulled on her jacket, as if shedding a layer of skin, and withou
behavior and the disgrace it brought to the family. Avalon ignored him, his gaze fixed on the window. The view outside the window shifts fr
of the Hayes Manor. It was a grand and imposing stone and glass buildi
en Hayes, was waiting in the living room. He sat in a huge
one. His cold and harsh gaze was filled with disgu
e low and dangerous. "You kneel down and a
in a thin layer of dust. During the year she disappeared and was lost in the fog, this man didn't c
ing again, producing a deep, continuous hum. She for
Warren's voice rose, brea
d met his gaze. Her gaze was c
mouth and utter
N

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