He steps to the side, and I see his pumpkin. It sits on a small table. The top has been cut away, and a hand sticks from the opening. Whoever created this fake appendage has a real eye for detail because it looks incredibly realistic. They even took the time to chip some of the nails and add a really convincing yellowish glaze to the skin. And is that bruising? Ezra pulls the hand—complete with attached arm—from the pumpkin and turns it over. Attached to the palm is a small velvet box. “Is that the fucking hand from the beach?” I screech as realization dawns on me. Ezra winces. “I wanted to
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