katie 🪼

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The car stops a dozen feet from the stone steps. The driver’s door opens and a man steps out. It takes me a moment to recognize him without his prison uniform. He’s wearing a stylish gray suit and a perfectly pressed white shirt underneath, just as he was the night the police led him out of our home. But it’s the only similarity to that twenty-year-old man from so long ago.
Darkest Sins (Perfectly Imperfect, #9)
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