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by
Ruby Dixon
Read between
March 22 - March 25, 2025
“Just a little mustard,” she murmurs. “No, I didn’t say I wanted a sandwich. Just mustard. That’s right. You can put it on the side of my plate.” Strange, though charming. I find it comforting that even in her sleep, she talks.
“See?” I whisper to Warrek. “Caveman.”
“You have my heart, my mate,” I tell her gently. “But I have no idea what you are talking about.”