heat and the Sterling ranch, counting do
ion, the familiar echo of
er the mansion. Her familiar room w
o the gardens. There, under a wilti
pink fabric betrayed
pered, "No... no cookies. Cookies are f
smug and heavily pregnant, dangling Lily'
a bit sooner than
aciously gave me her share," she pur
father, stand by while hi
her to twist our family's lega
s an act of heinous cruelty. A deliberate
heir, was now utte
away my own Falcon emblem, she decla
my shirt, hidden by years of p
activated the Ghost Tactical Squad-F
was about