Caitlin

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“I’m not Nurse Hull. I borrowed these scrubs.” His amusement is disturbing. I narrow my eyes at him. “What the fuck—why?” He shrugs and walks toward the door. He flips the light switch and my bedside lamp goes out. “So I don’t get complaints from people like your brother.” He laughs as the door shuts quietly behind him.
The Fabric of Our Souls
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