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Cawker City, Kansas, must be proud of their five-thousand-pound ball of twine.
“My name is Dianne Briggs. And my daughter, Sophie, went missing twenty years ago.”
It wasn’t until I found myself hovering over Cooper in my kitchen, looking down at his weakened body, that I had a taste of what it really felt like: control. Of not only having it, but taking it from somebody else. Snatching it up and claiming it as your own. And for one single moment, like a flicker in the dark, it felt good.
