Isatta

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Soon, she would see him as a failure. As his thick fingers stroked her arm, all of those fallen pins reloaded on the conveyor belt of his busy mind. The outer corners of Vin’s eyes itched, and he wondered if she could sense his chest tightening. He blinked in the darkness, cursing the moisture tickling his ducts. Tears. Fucking tears.
Isatta
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Parachutes Book Three: The Impact
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