Elizabeth Vargas

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His hands twitch in his pockets, and then he’s close enough to meet her gaze, close enough for her to feel the menace rolling off him, the If I wanted to, I could, but she doesn’t shy back, doesn’t make herself small. She looks right into his eyes, and smiles, and whatever he sees, it’s enough to make him flinch and shuffle sideways off the curb, just to get away.
Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil
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