Danielle Lashmett

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“Truth or dare?” I asked, voice cracking with the question. “Truth.” “Did you ever miss me, after I left?” He shook his head, the muscles of his jaw ticking, nose flaring, hands still pulling me in, closer, closer. “Only every day, Eliza,” he whispered, his brows bending together. “Every hour. Every minute. Every second you’ve been gone.”
The Christmas Blanket
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