Tazreean Ahmed

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“Do you lot have to bend over like that?” a voice asked. “It’s making my eyes water.” A thin, red-haired young man was sitting above us on a granite block in the center of the room. Like the rest of our raiding party, he was all in black—in his case, whopping big boots, skinny jeans, and a turtleneck top.
Tazreean Ahmed
i love you
The Empty Grave (Lockwood & Co., #5)
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