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PREVIEW
... zing for showing up. The curtain, far too thin to block anything, let the sun spread in slanted lines across the room, lighting up the suspended dust dancing an indecent ballet.
The air was thick with the smells of old wood, last night’s onions, and sweaty skin all fighting for attention.
I was there, lying on my side, propped up on one crooked elbow, my cheek creasing a sheet that had probably been white once. I watched Lina’s room—it was smaller than she deserved, but more hone ...
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