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The voice spills from a perfect pair of lips, a shadow revealing emerald eyes that dance below black brows, black hair that curls across his forehead, framing a face Adeline knows too well. One that she has conjured up a thousand times, in pencil and charcoal and dream. It is the stranger. Her stranger.
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AHHHHHHHHH YOOOOOOOOOOOO
The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
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