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... l one. But the marriage between Elodie and Dante was definitely in a coffin, and Nonna was over here serving lasagna like it was a wedding reception.
"Elodie, Liora, come eat!" Nonna beamed, ushering them toward the table. "It’s getting cold!"
"Okay, we’re coming," Elodie said.
"Coming," Dante echoed.
They spoke in perfect unison. Same rhythm. Same polite, and empty tone. It was synchronized swimming in a sea of lies.
Liora skipped ahead, clutching Elodie’ ...
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