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... ewhere and she couldn’t figure out where so her face is just permanently stuck in that scrunched-up, unappealing state. But here’s the twist that no one saw coming – judging from her eyes, it was me that stunk along.
Silently, Amelia tried to swing the guest room door close on my face.
“Not with me,” I hastily said, wedging my leg in time in-between the closing slit, and if I hadn’t been wearing shoes still, let’s just say my foot would have been doing a very good potato chip imp ...
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