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... Silent, hot, humiliating. I ducked my head, pressing my fingers to my lips as if I could shove the memory back down. Not here. Not in this booth, not in daylight. But Aria’s hand didn’t move, her grip steady, unrelenting. And suddenly, I wasn’t strong enough to hold it anymore. I thought I was fine? Why am I crying!?
Finally, I broke. The words tumbled out in a rush—about the gala, the drug, the blurred edges of reality, Clara’s betrayal, and the two men waiting in that suite. My voice s ...
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