Chapter Seventy-Nine: All the Mice Come Out and Play

Sloane

I was feeling warm and fuzzy, but not in a hot cocoa on a winter’s day kind of good warm fuzzies. “Nick, can we go back into the sitting room I think I need to rest. Who knew a little tour could be so exhausting. I can’t breathe.” I reached out and grabbed for him, and he ripped my necklace ...

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