0 Folds
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5
She couldn't tell you about the first time she shot a gun. She doesn't remember. The recoil and the bullet wounds faded into one and she never knew whether she was the prey. -
5
"No, but we agreed you'd take it off my hands if I weaved gold straw. I don't want it back."
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3
Adam, beside her was still bleeding, the thickness tainting the worn seats. She bit her lip and made a sharp veer to the right.