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She’s a beauty among the ashes that seem to collect in this damned home.
“Love you, too.” Her words are garbled, but this time, I don’t berate her for talking with food in her mouth. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll have that luxury.
Huh. Guess the milkman doesn’t like Parsons Manor.
If Genevieve is my end, then I open the door to death with no hesitation.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the devil was on my shoulder, whispering to me in such a wicked way.

