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... pulled a face, one that made it look as if she was going through some serious chronic constipation. “See? Can you… please slit my throat now?”
I held onto my reserves. “You’ll come back?”
“‘Course I’ll come back. Phoenix, remember?” She nudged her head at me, her eyes unfocused. “Come on, hurry it up… I promise it won’t kill you.”
Didn’t even have the time to process what I actually was doing. No time for any moral dilemmas. No time for reluctance to brew over as I held ...
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