She had to jump, or she’d be left behind. The dogs snapped at her heels. Bullets whizzed past her head. She should give in. Give up. It was useless to try. No. Something sparked inside her. An old feeling. A familiar feeling. Like she was back in the midst of a heist, outwitting a certain Blood Guard captain, risking everything for the possibility of saving one more witch from the purge. She’d forgotten the thrill of it. How it made her feel untouchable. Invincible. I am the Crimson Moth. It was the answer to her oldest question. You are the kindest, cleverest, bravest girl I’ve ever met. This
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