Zahirymar Flores

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“Gods.” Father sighed, dragging a palm over his jaw. “I’m sorry, Dess.” My entire body jolted. When was the last time he’d called me Dess? It had been years. And I’d never heard him apologize. The gentleness in his eyes was so foreign that my heart clenched.
Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)
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