Allie Sousa

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An agonizing beat passes as we gape at each other. Then he bursts out of the door and onto the veranda. I fling the coat directly into his face and hurl myself back at the trellis. Through the wool I still hear a muffled “Wait!” “Nope,” I say, clinging to the trellis, “too cold, good night.”
Little Thieves (Little Thieves, #1)
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