The Face That Refuses Beauty

The ugly black door waited beyond the broken basin.

Mira stood in front of it with one cheek swelling from my fist and a face that could not decide whether to be blue-eyed, gray-eyed, or mine.

"You are bleeding," she said.

I looked at my split knuckles.

"So are you."

Her smile thinned.

The Lun...

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